Dating Philosophy 101
by Poetgirl925
Summary: Felicity has a date, and Oliver realizes he knows very little about her personal life. But when he starts asking questions, he gets a little more information than he was expecting.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Just a humorous little one shot that's been in my head for a few weeks. It follows canon but would be before the latest episode, so the club hasn't opened yet. I think I remembered Felicity's show canon history correctly (the parts we've learned so far) but I haven't really had the time to watch episodes more than once. If I messed up any of my facts, let me know. This is my first time writing for these characters, so feedback would be appreciated. Oliver, Diggle and Felicity are likely the only characters I will write for. I like Tommy, but I find Laurel very irritating – neither her storyline nor the actress portraying her is very good. I like the way that Felicity seems to amuse Oliver, and that's the angle I went for here. I have a few more ideas for this pairing, so I'll get to them when I have the time. **

**Dating Philosophy 101**

Oliver entered the basement of Verdant quietly and made his way toward the bank of computers where Felicity was muttering while typing quickly. He noticed her hair was down and straighter than it normally was, as if she had been to a salon that day. He waited for her to take note of his presence; after a couple of minutes passed, he realized that she was completely involved in whatever she was doing.

He shook his head as he pulled back his hood. "You should be more aware of your surroundings."

"Geez!" Felicity's hand flew to her chest, and she turned to glare at Oliver. "Since I'm not on your list, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't sneak up on me like that."

Oliver tried to contain the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "If I were sneaking, I'd be even stealthier. I was just walking. And the door made a noise when it closed and the alarm reset."

Felicity sighed and turned back to the computer. "I'm just trying to fix this problem with the server before I head out."

Oliver put away his equipment and used some wipes to clean the green paint from his face. "Your hair is different."

Felicity glanced up at him as he joined her at the desk. "I got my hair cut today and opted for a blowout for a change. It's not really something I usually have time for."

Oliver nodded as he looked her over. Her hair wasn't the only thing that was different. She was usually dressed far more casually on the weekends, but today she was wearing a knit dress in a deep shade of purple paired with a kelly green cardigan. The v-neck of the dress exposed more of her assets than he was used to seeing, and he directed his eyes back up before his thoughts could wander any further down that inappropriate path.

"Nice dress," he finally said. "And you're not wearing your glasses. Girls' night?" Felicity didn't strike him as the clubbing type, but he honestly had no idea what she did when she wasn't working at Queen Consolidated or helping him.

"I have a date," she answered a bit distractedly. "Can you hand me that disk?"

Oliver picked up the disk and passed it to her. "I didn't know you dated." When Felicity glared at him again, he hurried to explain. "I just meant that you're usually here on weekends."

"And according to my friends, my work is interfering with my social life. This is a setup and before you ask, no – setups are not usually something I go for because disappointment abounds nine times out of ten. But my friend Lindsay says I'm suffering a sexual dry spell that rivals the Atacama Desert, and… I guess you really didn't need to know that," she finished, looking a little embarrassed.

"So your friend arranged a hookup for you?" Oliver couldn't hide his surprise. He definitely wouldn't have pegged her for that sort of thing, and he found the idea a little concerning.

"You really need to pick up an urban dictionary that covers the last five years," Felicity replied, rolling her eyes. "Lindsay calls it recreational dating and if he's as great as she says, maybe it will be worth the awkward first date scenario that's sure to be playing out an hour from now. Personally, I doubt it."

Oliver looked her over again. "So you've dressed up in anticipation of a bad date?"

"No. I dressed up on the off chance that this is a one out of ten situation. IT girl isn't really a look that reels them in – and showing a little skin has the advantage of distraction when I get nervous and start rambling down conversational roads best not traveled."

He leaned against the desk and watched her for a moment. "Have you checked him out?"

"If by checked him out you mean I hacked his Facebook page, email account, bank records, and criminal history then yes," she said. "If Dexter taught me anything, it's that even serial killers can hide behind nice guy images. Of course, I guess if he were like Dexter then all of his records would be clean and I could still end up at the bottom of the nearest large body of water, but I try not to let my imagination run too wild."

"I have no idea who Dexter is, but you should be careful." Oliver crossed his arms. "He may not be a serial killer, but men can be real sleazebags about sex, Felicity."

"I think the more contemporary term is douchebag," Felicity commented as she logged off the computer. Suddenly, she laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Just that if anyone had told me a few months ago that Oliver Queen would be giving me advice on men, I wouldn't have believed them. And I find the irony amusing given your dating history." She bit her lip suddenly. "Sorry."

Oliver shrugged, keeping his expression contained. "I can appreciate the irony. I guess I see that Oliver as a completely different person, but I understand why others have a harder time making the distinction."

"You probably feel like the old Oliver died on the island and someone completely different returned to Starling City," Felicity observed as she pulled on her lightweight coat. "And I never met that Oliver, but even I can see you're nothing like him."

Oliver wasn't sure how to respond to that – mainly because she was so on target with her observation.

"So does this mean we're friends now?" Felicity picked up her bag and looked at Oliver, head tilted slightly. "It's just that you've never really expressed an interest in my personal life before."

He had to hand it to her – she had a knack for throwing him off balance. She had a quick mind, and she tended to say whatever was on it. "You saved my life. I'd like to think we're friends."

She smiled at him. "We're not now, but maybe we can be. I'll see you on Monday."

Oliver kept his eyes on her until she was out of sight. He supposed she was right and they weren't exactly friends. For one thing, he could sum up what he knew about her on one hand; she worked in the IT department of Queen Consolidated, she was Jewish, her middle name was Megan, and according to Diggle, she'd been building computers since she was seven. He could add her dating dry spell to that list, but he didn't know anything about her friends and family. He wondered why that was only occurring to him now.

* * *

Oliver was practicing with his bow when Felicity arrived on Monday evening. He placed the bow on the table and turned to greet her, noting that she looked much more Felicity-like in black pants, a button up pink shirt and a blue sweater. Her hair was pulled back into its usual ponytail, and she was wearing her glasses. Though she'd looked beautiful the other night, he realized he preferred her more casual appearance because it seemed to suit her.

"I stopped at a café on my way here. I got you some tea." He nodded to the travel thermos on the desk. "I wasn't sure if you drank coffee or tea, but the barista said that one is a blend almost everyone likes. And I thought the coffee might make you feel too hyper to sleep later."

Felicity paused, a surprised expression on her face. She reached for the thermos and opened it, sniffing the contents. "Wow, that smells good." She took a sip and grimaced slightly. "It needs sugar though."

He nodded toward the bag. "In the bag." He watched her add two packets of sugar to the tea and stir before taking another sip.

"Perfect. Thanks." She peeked into the bag again. "I don't suppose this muffin is for me?"

"It's for you," he confirmed. "It's blueberry. I wasn't sure what you liked."

"Well, my favorite is banana nut, but blueberry's good too. How was your weekend?" She took a bite of the muffin as she began logging into the server.

"I was here helping Tommy for most of it. How was yours?"

"It was fine."

She didn't elaborate, and Oliver debated the wisdom of asking about her date. On the one hand it wasn't any of his business, but he admitted to being curious. "And how was your date?" He noticed how she stilled her movements and hesitated ever so slightly before her fingers began moving quickly across the keyboard again.

"Also fine."

"Okay." She obviously didn't want to talk about it, so he picked up his bow. He wondered if her reticence was due to the date going well or badly. He hoped if it was the latter that it had ended before reaching the bedroom. He heard the sound of fingers on keyboard slowing and then stopping. When he turned to look at her, she was looking at him.

"There's not that much to tell. About the date, I mean. He's a nice enough guy, I guess, but he didn't really do it for me. And I didn't like the way he cut his meat."

And that was possibly more information than he needed, he thought. "If that's a sexual euphemism, I should probably remind you I don't have that urban dictionary yet." He smiled as a blush spread through Felicity's cheeks.

"No, it's not – I mean I didn't like the way he ate his dinner. He just went straight for the meat, no finesse at all, and he never touched the other things on his plate. And I have this theory that the way men do every day things is kind of a window into how they'd be in bed, you know?"

Oliver wondered if she was messing with him. "Are you serious?"

"I had a less than stellar experience in college that backs up my theory in spades – I called that relationship Dating Philosophy 101. On our first date the guy cut his salad into little, tiny pieces and then dipped each piece into the salad dressing he'd ordered on the side. He always ate everything in that same precise kind of way, and sadly his weird little routines didn't end at the dinner table. But you don't really need to know about that, I guess." She was blushing again as she took a sip of the tea. "And I do drink coffee. In fact, I love coffee. But you're right and it kind of amps up my nervous energy, and then I talk more, and usually I don't really need to talk more. I know I talk a lot."

He couldn't argue with that. He also couldn't resist teasing her a little. "You realize I'm going to feel self-conscious every time I eat in front of you now, right?"

Felicity's cheeks warmed even more. "I'm just going to shut up now, drink my tea, and get to work."

Oliver was smiling as he aimed his crossbow and released his arrow, hitting the target dead on. Maybe they weren't friends yet, but it was a start. And he had a feeling that the road to a friendship with Felicity would be an interesting journey.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: First, I want to thank everyone who reviewed, favorited, or followed this story. It got a much bigger response than I was expecting, especially for my first foray into this fandom. I will be replying to all the reviews, I'm just behind on that these days because I have a terrible Internet connection. Second, this story was only intended to be a one shot – I mentioned that in my author note, but I realized later that I forgot to mark the story Complete when I posted it. However, I did have some ideas for a series of one shots that developed their friendship. After giving it some thought, I figured I could work the series of one shots into a story instead. As a result, this is now a multi-chapter story. I have the next few chapters planned out and an idea of where it's headed. It will likely stray into romance by the end because that's generally how I roll as a writer. I'll update as often as possible, but I have stories I'm working on for other fandoms – namely Chlollie from Smallville – and I don't intend to jump that ship because I love those characters, too. I also have my own original fics I'm working on, and I teach abroad (and travel) so I'm a busy little bee. **

**No beta – I'll try to get around to finding one soon because it would make for speedier updating if I had another pair of eyes helping me edit. Meanwhile, let me know if you see glaring errors.**

**Chapter 2**

The Big Belly Burger was busy as Oliver and Diggle entered, weaving through customers to grab the last empty table in the back corner.

"You know if we keep eating here, we'll need to double our workouts on a daily basis," Oliver commented as he sat.

"Hey now – I make your burgers from the leanest beef I have, and I have whole grain buns or lettuce wraps for the carb watching crowd," Carly replied as she placed the menus in front of them.

"And if we have to double our workouts, it's worth it," Diggle said, directing a smile her way.

"He has a point," Oliver allowed. "I dreamed of burgers while I was on that island. How are you today, Carly?"

"Busy. Ever since a certain billionaire started hanging out in my diner, I've had a lot more customers. Felicity's not joining you guys tonight?"

"She had a prior engagement," Oliver replied.

"Another date? I know her last one was a bust, but she seems determined lately to get back out there," Carly said.

Oliver hadn't thought to ask her if she had a date. In fact, he hadn't questioned her when she mentioned dinner plans because she hadn't been particularly dressed up – not like the night of her setup.

"It's just dinner with her friend Lindsay tonight, but I think she has another date next week," Diggle answered. "I'll have the lean burger with everything, fries, and the strawberry shake." At Oliver's raised brow, he shrugged. "Hey, a man's got to eat. I'll worry about the workout tomorrow."

When Carly turned her attention to him, Oliver relented. "I'll have the same."

"Ok, I'll have it right out."

Oliver waited for her to leave before turning to Diggle. "How is it that you know Felicity's plans and I don't?"

Diggle leaned forward, a slight smirk on his face. "You see, Oliver, there's this thing that people do. It's called having a conversation. Generally, one person says something and then the other person responds. Simple, really."

"I talk to her."

"Sure you do – about the list, about work, and about computer issues. But not about her life – and monosyllabic responses when she starts babbling don't count."

Oliver thought about that as they waited for their order. True, he wasn't always particularly talkative, but he'd thought Felicity was opening up to him more lately. They'd had a long talk after Helena left her tied up under her desk at Queen Consolidated. He'd been concerned that Felicity was going to bail on the team after that, but she said that hadn't crossed her mind. Instead, she'd told him that she now had two reasons to stay. First, she wanted to find Walter. Second, she wanted to find his psycho ex and put her down before she caused any more damage.

Oliver suspected that words had been exchanged between Felicity and Helena during that confrontation, though so far Felicity hadn't been forthcoming with details. However, the very fact that Felicity was out for Helena's blood was proof that Helena hadn't simply threatened her to get the information on the safe house. Since he knew Helena's penchant for mind games and finding weakness that could be exploited, he could reasonably assume that she had taken the opportunity to play with someone who was important to Oliver. After all, when Felicity had unexpectedly appeared in the basement while Helena was there, he'd reacted explosively out of fear that Felicity would be one more person who could be used against him. That had clearly piqued Helena's interest, especially since it had been obvious that Felicity was aware Oliver was also the hooded vigilante.

Their food arrived, and Carly took a break to sit with them as they ate. She and Diggle had been spending a lot more time together, and Oliver was happy for his friend. Just because he had to sacrifice that part of his life didn't mean that Diggle had to as well. Nor did it mean Felicity had to. He didn't want to shipwreck them on his own personal island.

They had just finished eating when Diggle's phone rang. He glanced at it and frowned. "Hello? This is John Diggle." He listened for a minute and then stood abruptly. "I'm on my way."

Oliver stood as well. "What's wrong?"

"That was the Starling City Police Department. Felicity was mugged."

"Oh my God, is she ok?" Carly looked concerned as Diggle pulled on his coat.

"The officer said she was still giving her statement, but she needed a ride home and she asked them to call me."

"I'll go." Oliver already had his jacket on, and his mind was racing with questions.

"Oliver, I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"I'm going." At Oliver's warning look, Diggle dropped his argument. After promising Carly they would let her know how Felicity was, they left.

Oliver rode his bike and arrived at the police station first. Rather than wait for Diggle, he took the stairs two at a time and went straight to the desk sergeant. "I need to know where Felicity Smoak is. She was mugged tonight, and she's here giving her statement."

The desk sergeant hit a few keys on the computer before picking up the phone. "This is Walters at the front desk. You guys got a Felicity Smoak back there? We got someone here asking for her." He listened for a minute. "Ok, thanks." He hung up the phone and looked at Oliver. "Go through those doors and up to the third floor. She's about done I think."

Oliver waited for the sergeant to buzz him through the doors and then hurried up the stairs. He entered the busy room and looked around, finally spotting Felicity seated at a desk on the left. He noticed that her usually neat ponytail was off center, and a few strands of hair had come loose and been tucked behind her ears. Her hand was scraped up, and her foot was propped on a chair opposite her.

"Are you alright? What happened?"

Felicity looked up as he approached, her expression confused. "What are you doing here?"

"The department called and said you needed a ride home," he reminded her.

"Yes, I know that. But I gave them Dig's number, not yours."

"And I was there when he got the call, so I came with him. He should be outside with the car now."

She heaved a sigh and turned back to the detective. "Is that everything you need?"

The detective nodded. "We'll call you back in if we find anything."

Oliver directed his attention to the detective. "What exactly happened?"

"Classic mugging – girl walks through the park, guy jumps her and steals her bag. Lucky for your friend, all he wanted was the bag." The detective handed over his card. "Call us if you remember anything else or if you have any problems at home. Perp's got your identification, so…"

"Yeah, I got it, thanks," Felicity replied hastily as she stood – or tried to at least. When she stumbled, Oliver reached out to steady her.

"Do you need me to carry you?" Oliver asked in concern. "I think you should have that x-rayed."

Felicity shot him a look of disbelief. "Carry me? Are you kidding?"

"Why would I be kidding? You can barely walk."

"Because Oliver Queen carrying me out of the police station or into a hospital has 'money shot' written all over it. I'd prefer not to wake up tomorrow to find #Olicity trending on Twitter, thanks. I mean, you're my boss, not my boyfriend. And even if you were my boyfriend, I wouldn't want it all over the media. Not that that's even a possibility, but I'm just saying."

In another situation, Oliver might have laughed at how grumpy Felicity sounded, but there wasn't much amusement to be found in her being injured as a result of a mugging. He tried for a more soothing tone. "Felicity, you're my friend, not just my employee. You can't seem to put weight on your foot, so obviously you need to go to the hospital. I'm open to suggestions here. What about your friend that you were meeting for dinner?"

"Dinner was cut short because Lindsay had to go out of town on assignment. She's a reporter for the Starling City Register. Just help me outside, but then Dig can go in with me at the hospital."

Oliver might have argued, but something else had occurred to him. "How are you going to get into your apartment? I assume the guy took your keys."

"I'm going to have to call the super and have the locks changed," she replied as he began helping her towards the exit.

"Why don't you let me deal with that while you go to the hospital," he suggested.

They were waiting for the elevator, and Felicity nibbled her bottom lip, hesitating. Finally, she said, "Thanks. I still have my phone because it was in my pocket, so I can call while we're in the car. I'll give you the address."

Oliver already knew her address, but he didn't mention it because he had a feeling she might not appreciate it at that moment. The elevator doors opened and Detective Lance stepped off.

"Mr. Queen." He glanced at Felicity. "New girlfriend? You do seem to go through them. I mean, the last one's only been gone a few weeks, but I guess it's about time for your Facebook relationship status to change again."

Oliver felt Felicity's grip tighten on his arm, revealing her sudden tension. Anger shot through him. "Detective, I can understand why you don't like me, but leave my friend out of it. As you can see, she's had a bad night. Maybe you could direct your energy toward finding the guy who attacked her."

Lance had the good grace to look contrite as he looked at Felicity. "The mugging case, right? They put out an APB on the suspect you described, but you should know that well lit or not, Starling City Park is not the safest place for a young woman alone after dark."

"Starling City Park has always been safe – it's nowhere near the Glades," Oliver pointed out.

"Maybe that was true five years ago, but crime from the Glades has steadily been encroaching on the rest of the city. That park is a popular spot for muggers and robbers because it's close to all those trendy restaurants and coffee shops in Five Points that young professionals like your friend here tend to frequent. We've also had some reported sexual assaults. So I suggest that in future, you take the long way rather than cutting through the park."

"Trust me when I say that I have no plans to be anywhere near that park in the future," Felicity replied.

Lance nodded, walking away as Oliver helped Felicity into the elevator.

Diggle was waiting for them outside. "Damn, girl. I hope the other guy took at least one hit after all of our training sessions."

"I assaulted his ears with my very loud screaming. Does that count?" At Diggle's look, Felicity sighed. "He caught me off guard."

Diggle shook his head. "We'll have to work on that."

"I was really afraid you were going to say that."

Oliver helped her into the car. "Text me your address and the super's number as soon as you've talked to him."

She nodded, and Oliver watched them drive away before he got on his bike and headed towards Felicity's apartment.

Two hours later, Oliver had the locks changed and had also put in a call to the same security company who handled the alarm systems at Queen Manor. He made an appointment to have a state-of-the-art alarm system installed the following morning. He really should have done it after Helena tracked Felicity down at her office because if she could find her at Queen Consolidated, she could certainly find her at home.

When Felicity hobbled in on crutches a half hour later with Diggle behind her, Oliver had a map of the city spread out on her coffee table. He had marked the park entrance closest to the restaurant area Detective Lance had mentioned, but he had no idea where Felicity had left her car.

"How's your foot?" Oliver asked.

Felicity looked at the map as she sat down beside him, sighing with relief. She propped the crutches against the arm of the sofa. "It's not broken – I just have a bad sprain. What are you doing?"

"Looking over all the entrances to the park. I assume you were coming from here," he pointed out the entrance he'd marked. "Where did you leave your car?"

"I left it in the parking deck at Queen Consolidated," she replied. "The business center is close to Five Points if you cut through the park. I'm usually only in that area during the day, so I didn't know it had gotten that bad. And I've cut through there in the early evening hours before – this is the first time I've ever had a problem."

"Did you call and cancel the cards that were in your wallet?"

"Already done. I only had my debit card and some cash on me."

"And your driver's license," Oliver reminded her. "Which means the guy has your address. Tomorrow I have a security company coming in to install a home security system. Tonight, I'm going to sleep on your couch just in case you have any unexpected visitors." When Felicity looked like she would object, he added, "This is non-negotiable. I should have done it already since Helena knows that you're connected to me. Her interest in you is because of me, so this is me taking care of that problem. I'll have an alert set up to notify you, me and Dig in case the alarm is tripped for any reason."

"At least promise you'll call before busting in here," Felicity grumbled. "I can already tell you that that security system will end up getting tripped by accident somehow because that's my life."

"I'll call first," he promised. He glanced up at Diggle. "You can head out if you want to. I already called home and told them not to expect me tonight."

"Alright. Are you planning to go into the office tomorrow?" Diggle sent Felicity a questioning look.

Oliver answered for her. "No, she isn't."

"Hello, sitting right here. You're not the boss of me. Okay, technically you are the boss of me, but that doesn't mean you can come in here and boss me around. And I don't need my foot to type. Plus, my supervisor is a lazy tyrant who hates it when we take sick days."

"Felicity, your hand is bandaged too. And you're not playing hooky, you were mugged – if your supervisor has a problem with you taking a day off after something like that then I'll handle it personally. I can assure you he won't argue with me. Just take the day off." They were glaring at each other now, each unwilling to budge.

Diggle cleared his throat. "Felicity, he's right. You're going to be feeling every bump and scrape tomorrow, trust me."

Felicity deflated and leaned back against the cushions. "You're right. I'm sorry I'm being so difficult, but I'm tired and upset, and I'm cranky – I hate crutches, and the doctor said I should use them for the rest of the week to keep weight off my foot."

Oliver felt his anger ebb away. She looked pale and tired, and her usual bubbly energy was missing. He found that bothered him more than her injured ankle. He focused on the problem at hand. "I'm going to patrol the area of the park tomorrow, so I need a description of the guy who attacked you."

"The police are handling it," she replied. "They put out an APB."

"Felicity, you heard them tonight. This kind of violence has become commonplace in the city, so I doubt they're going to do much. They'll reserve their man hours for more serious attacks."

"No offense, but the guy was like fifteen, sixteen tops. I don't want to be responsible for him being your target practice, Oliver."

Her tone was neutral, but Oliver felt the sting of her words nonetheless. "I'm not in the habit of killing teenagers."

Felicity met his gaze directly. "Look, I understand why you do what you do." She paused. "I don't know – maybe I don't really understand it, but I'm trying to. And while I recognize that you've done a lot of good, the casualties you leave in your wake bother me."

Oliver had known from the beginning that Felicity had a problem with his approach to the list. They'd butted heads over it on more than one occasion. What he hadn't realized was how much it bothered her. He wanted to ask her if that was the reason she had refused to join his team on a more permanent basis, but he remained silent because he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

Diggle was the one to break the uncomfortable silence in the room. "I think someone should do something about crime in the park. I was talking to some people at the hospital, and they said that three female joggers have been sexually assaulted there in the last couple of months."

"I've been working on a new kind of arrow," Oliver finally said. "It has a charge like a Taser when it strikes a target, but I've been having trouble getting the charge just right. Maybe we can work on it this week. It would take out random street thugs without leaving any lasting damage, and I could use zip tie handcuffs to secure them until the police arrived."

Felicity looked at him in surprise. "I thought you said before that you didn't have time for random city patrols."

"I still plan to spend the bulk of my time on the source of this city's problems, not the symptoms," he answered. "But if random patrol can make things a little safer in the meantime, then it's something I can make the time for… at least a couple times a week. A few sightings of the vigilante in and around the park would probably be a good crime deterrant."

She smiled at him. "I can help. With the tasing arrows, I mean. If I'm going to stay home tomorrow, you can bring them over and I'll take a look. And we should talk about your hood costume."

"What about it?"

"Oliver, your disguise is basically a hood and some green paint around your eyes. Who is that really going to fool if they manage to get close enough to peek under the hood? You should be wearing some kind of mask. It's not like people don't know Oliver Queen's face in this city, you know."

"She has a point," Diggle said, his expression one of amusement.

Oliver couldn't help smiling a little at the return of Felicity's enthusiasm. "Why don't we talk about it tomorrow? Right now, I think we could all use some rest." He reached for several sets of keys on the table and handed them to Felicity. "Your new keys – I had them install an extra deadbolt lock while they were here."

"I noticed - thanks." Felicity stood carefully with the aid of her crutches and began hobbling towards her bedroom. "The linen closet is in the hall bathroom. There are sheets and blankets in there. I turned the spare bedroom into a home office, so your only option for sleeping is the couch."

"The couch is fine." He turned away, but looked back when he heard her rattling the keys in her hand. He easily caught the set of keys she tossed him.

"It's probably a good idea if one of you keeps a spare set of my keys," Felicity said. "In case of emergency."

Oliver was good at reading people; it had been necessary in order to survive on the island, and it was equally necessary now that he was home. So he recognized that this was Felicity's way of extending an olive branch of sorts. It was her way of letting him know that she trusted him despite her other misgivings. He folded his fingers over the keys. "You're right. It's a good idea."

She smiled and disappeared into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

"She's good for you, you know. She's good for both of us, really." Diggle sat down in the spot Felicity had vacated. "She sees things a little differently, and she's not afraid to tell you when she disagrees with your methods."

"I know." It was the reason he tracked her down at the office and apologized after she had walked out on him. He'd never really thought she would expose his identity as the vigilante, but he had been afraid she might not come back without some overture on his part. "Has Felicity talked to you about what happened between her and Helena?"

If Diggle was surprised by the sudden change in topic, he didn't show it. "A little."

Oliver had expected that answer. "I know I'm not the easiest person to talk to. I'm glad she can talk to one of us, though."

"She talks to you, Oliver. You just have to pay attention to the details with her because her approach to sharing isn't always linear. I'll see you tomorrow." Diggle left, and Oliver locked the door behind him.

Friendships took time to develop, and Oliver could admit he was rusty when it came to sharing. But he had a feeling that Felicity's friendship would be worth the work he put into it because he could see now that sharing wasn't so easy for her, either – not when it came to the important stuff. And he couldn't expect her to tell him how she was feeling when he never reciprocated. Maybe he wasn't a caring, sharing leader. He was self-contained, and he still operated in survivalist mode most of the time, but he was working on it. And somehow he knew Felicity could appreciate a work-in-progress.

**Next up: Felicity enters the world of online dating, and that one will likely be from her point-of-view. Thanks for reading! :-D**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Responding to reviews is on my agenda for today (assuming my Internet connection holds up) but I figured you might like the update first. Thanks for the amazing response the story has gotten. It's flattering that so many of you are enjoying it. I'll post again as soon as I have time to edit the rest of what I have written. Thanks for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing – I hope you enjoy this chapter from Felicity's POV just as much!**

Chapter 3

Felicity tried not to watch as Oliver went through one of his many martial arts routines, muscles rippling and bare chest glistening in a way that made her ovaries stand up and do a little dance of appreciation. She huffed in irritation. Was it completely necessary for him to parade around half naked?

_It's just pheromones_, she told herself. _It's biology. It's no big deal._

Yes, he was hot and yummy and deliciously male. And his abs were a thing of beauty she'd have suspected were Photoshopped if not for the fact that she saw them up close and personal almost _every freaking day_.

His abs were half the reason she'd taken Lindsay's advice and jumped back into the dating world with such gusto. Frankly, she was afraid that if she didn't find another outlet for this ridiculous attraction she felt for Oliver, she might end up doing something stupid… like jumping him in the middle of one of his shirtless training sessions.

Maybe she'd have a better handle on her hormones if he weren't also being abnormally friendly of late. He brought her tea and coffee, and he regularly ordered from her favorite restaurants on late nights spent in his vigilante man cave. He'd also begun asking her questions about things that had nothing to do with work or the list or finding Walter. Suddenly, he wanted to know things about her other than how fast she could work her magic on the mainframe.

In short, he wanted to be friends. But she was beginning to wonder if that was actually possible. After all, things got complicated when one friend had naked thoughts about the other at least five times a day. And that was only counting the couple of hours she spent at Verdant each evening before going home to an apartment that still reeked of his presence. She couldn't even sit on her sofa anymore without seeing his lean frame stretched out against the cushions the morning after she was mugged.

She blamed all the testosterone in the room whenever Oliver was present. That and all the pheromones he was probably sending out all over the place. And she hadn't had sex in a really long time – too long. Of course she was responding to Oliver's sweaty, muscled body contorting itself all around her work space. I mean, how could a girl be expected to work under these conditions?

A bead of sweat trickled down his chest. _You could hand him a towel, or you know, lick him like an ice cream cone melting on a hot, sweaty, summer day. _

She jerked her mind away from that lovely image and back to her monitor. _Focus on the work, get it done, and get out before you embarrass yourself,_ she mentally scolded her wayward libido. She made a little sound of irritation, her fingers stabbing at the keyboard.

"Are you alright?" Diggle's voice broke through her mental parade of naked Oliver cones.

_No_. "I'm fine. I'm just… hot." _Understatement of the century, Felicity._

Oliver walked over, chugging a bottle of water. "How is that search coming along?"

"Still searching. It might be a while, so you can go back to your…" she waved her hand vaguely in the direction of his training area, eyes firmly on her monitor.

"This might be a good time for you to join me. I've been meaning to work with you since the mugging."

_What?_ "What?" She winced at the shrill edge to her tone. "I mean no. I mean it's not necessary. Diggle has already pounded me into the mat three times since the mugging."

"Diggle is too soft on you," Oliver replied calmly. "I want to be sure if someone comes after you again that you have the ability to defend yourself. Because they might want more than your wallet next time."

"Really, I'm good." The idea of sparring with Oliver, or engaging in any kind of activity that put her into direct contact with his body, made her insides shudder in equal parts delight and horror. "I'm carrying pepper spray and a Taser now." She didn't mention that she'd nearly tased herself in the gun shop while handling her new weapon; clearly she had some practicing to do.

"Felicity…"

"And I can't do it right now anyway because…" she paused, her mind racing through possible excuses. "I have a coffee date. With a guy. So, you know, I can't get all sweaty with you before the date because that usually comes after the date." _What the hell are you saying?_ She hurriedly backtracked. "Not that, you know, we'd be getting _sweaty_ sweaty, just…hot… and sweaty. And… " _For the love of God, stop talking_. "And it's not like Gerwin and I will be getting sweaty either. It's just coffee because we haven't even met yet. But he seems nice. Or his profile seems nice, you know, and his picture. Definitely not the 'trying to get into my pants after a measly coffee date' type. He'd at least buy me dinner first." _Shut up, shut up_!

Felicity clamped her lips shut and chanced a peek at Diggle and Oliver. Diggle was studiously looking at his phone, but he couldn't quite hide his grin which didn't surprise her. He found her lack of conversational filter entertaining, and she was sure the only reason he wasn't laughing at her was because he didn't want to further humiliate her in front of Oliver.

As for Oliver, she couldn't quite decipher his expression, but the barest quirk of his lips told her that he was amused. Amused and…something else. Something she'd seen in his expression more often in recent weeks. Something she couldn't read, though not for lack of trying. Because Oliver was a complicated man, and her experience with mysterious, bottled up billionaires who masqueraded as unrepentant playboys by day and crime fighting vigilantes by night was limited to the one currently regarding her a little more intently than she was comfortable with.

Could he tell that she was lying? She had no idea, but he hadn't been alone on the island where he'd learned to fight with such deadly accuracy. God only knew what else he'd learned there – maybe Jedi mind tricks and how to spot liars from fifty paces. She knew that liars usually had tells, so she concentrated on schooling her expression into one that she hoped was open and honest. She felt an overwhelming urge to blink rapidly – maybe that was her tell? She widened her eyes momentarily before succumbing.

"Is something wrong with your eye?"

_Dammit._ "Eyelash." She was definitely not cut out for intrigue and deception. Or for talking without jamming her foot in her mouth, something she'd been cursing since puberty.

After a moment, Oliver said, "So. Coffee with… Gerwin?"

"His mother's German," she replied in answer to his unspoken question. It really was an odd name, but she was trying to push past it. "I should get going. I'll text you when the search completes." She pushed aside a niggling feeling of guilt. It wasn't really a lie since she actually did have a coffee date with Gerwin. It just wasn't tonight. "I should go."

Felicity could feel Oliver's eyes on her as she set the computer to ping her phone when the search completed. She forced herself not to look at him. Instead, she stood and pulled on her new lightweight, blue trench and grabbed her bag from the table. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Felicity."

_Don't look._ But the weight of his gaze was like some kind of magnet pulling her blue eyes up to meet his. He smiled and a bolt of lightning, a sudden awareness, made her heart leap. "Yes?"

"Bring your workout clothes tomorrow."

And they were back to that. She sighed, knowing that once he set his mind on something, he wasn't likely to change it. She nodded before turning and hurrying out the door, wondering if she could fake a relapse of her sprained ankle.

* * *

Several days later, Felicity stood somewhat rigidly on the training mat with Oliver behind her. He was attempting to show her how to break a hold if someone grabbed her from behind, but it wasn't going that well.

"Felicity, concentrate. Your life could depend on knowing how to do this at some point." His voice was hard, his friendlier demeanor gone for the moment.

He'd been this way since the moment they'd stepped on the mat – hard, relentless, and emotionless. Felicity knew that this was the Oliver from the island. This Oliver was a survivor, a hunter. This was The Hood that faced down the criminal element of Starling City. Not for the first time, she wondered what went through the minds of the men whom the vigilante confronted. Being faced with this Oliver, features hidden behind his hood, voice distorted, must be utterly terrifying.

"Felicity!"

She jumped. "I'm sorry, but you're making me nervous."

That seemed to get his attention. He stepped back and turned her to face him. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm in complete control of every movement."

"This is just not something I'm good at. I've never been in a physical fight unless you count the time that Chris Vaughn sat next to me on the school bus and his crazy girlfriend Natalie Cucino yanked me off my seat at the lunch table by my ponytail the next day. And we didn't actually fight since the principal saw the whole thing and intervened."

Oliver sighed. "Felicity, there was no one in the park to intervene on your behalf when you were mugged. And I'm patrolling now, but the chances of me being nearby if something like that happens again are not good. Then there's Helena."

Felicity couldn't hide her grimace at that name. "What about her?"

"She knows that you work for me. She poses a threat to you."

"Oliver, I was a means to an end the last time she blew through town on the crazy train. She doesn't have a reason to come after me again." Memories of Helena taunting her that night in her office flashed through her mind, and her stomach churned.

"Maybe that was true before I tried to kill her, but it's personal now. If she comes back to Starling City, she'll be looking for ways to hurt me."

"There's a long list of people whose names would be far above mine if that's true," she pointed out. "Helena is a particular brand of crazy, so she's more likely to target girlfriends past and present than IT specialists. She made it clear that she still has feelings for you."

"You never told me what you and Helena talked about that night."

Oliver was watching her closely, and Felicity couldn't shake the sudden nervousness his gaze elicited. Because if there was one thing she _didn't_ want to talk about, it was what Helena had to say that night. "It wasn't a slumber party, Oliver. She threatened me and I gave her what she wanted."

She turned and walked over to the desk. Uncapping her water bottle, she took a long sip before speaking again. "Can we just pick this up again tomorrow? I need to head home and shower because I'm meeting Gerwin for coffee."

Oliver joined her, picking up his own bottle of water. "Coffee again? I thought coffee dates were usually followed by dinner dates. Unless this is actually your first date."

_Busted._ "You knew I was lying?" Felicity asked. One more thing she could add to his island skill set.

"Felicity, you have many talents. Lying isn't one of them," he replied, his brows lifting slightly in amusement.

"Okay, well fighting isn't either, and when you suggested I be your trainee, I panicked," she explained. She picked up her towel and swiped it over the back of her neck. "Anyway, I should probably get going."

"Where are you meeting him?"

His tone was casual, but something about the benign nature of it instantly made her suspicious. "Why do you want to know?"

He shrugged and smiled the way he always did when he was trying to charm her and get his way. "Idle curiosity."

She considered this before relenting. "I'm meeting him at a café in Five Points, but I have no plans to walk anywhere near the park. I'll drive over and pay for metered parking on the main street."

"Okay." He picked up his own towel. "So what does Gerwin do?"

"He's a corporate lawyer, and according to his profile, he has a cat and he loves golfing on weekends." Felicity took another sip of her water.

"Do you have a safety system?"

She nearly spat out the water as she tried to swallow without choking. "This is a coffee date, Oliver. I hardly think I'm going to need a safe word tonight – or, hopefully, ever. I'm not exactly a Fifty Shades kind of girl."

"Finally, a reference I'm familiar with." Oliver looked briefly amused. "Those books have given some bizarre ideas to a few of the women who keep trying to hook up with me in the club. But I'm not talking about safe words, Felicity. I'm talking about a safety system in which you notify someone when you get home after one of your dates."

"Gerwin is a cat owning corporate lawyer who golfs. I think I'm safe enough meeting him for coffee."

"You don't know what he is because he's a stranger. He could be lying on his profile."

Felicity rolled her eyes. She sat down at the computer and with a few keystrokes, she accessed Gerwin's profile. "Meet Gerwin," she said, waving a hand toward the photo of a dark haired, rather serious looking man of about thirty. With a few more keystrokes, she accessed his Facebook page. "As you can see, the photos match. And here's the corporate website for his law office where he's listed as a junior partner. I also searched the Internet for other photos of Gerwin." She pulled up a search engine. "And when I did that, I didn't find any duplicate profiles, but I did find photos of him at a golfing tournament in Coast City a few months ago. I searched for any police reports connected to his name – local, state and federal. I accessed his phone records and ran searches on frequently called numbers. I checked for marriage certificates, divorce decrees… I even checked vet records. Trust me when I say I'm not about to be catfished or otherwise scammed by a fake profile. And I found _nothing_ on this guy that looks fishy."

"I'm guessing 'catfished' has nothing to do with fishing," Oliver commented, leaning against her desk.

"Catfished – as in Manti Te'o? Seriously, I realize there were no documentaries on the island, but you have no excuse for being behind on pop culture events that have occurred since your return from the dead."

"He's a football player, and I remember something about his girlfriend dying."

"His girlfriend was an online hoax – he was catfished. And other than running across a few guys who were being less than forthright about their lack of wives and girlfriends, I haven't hit any major snags in my online dating adventure."

"I have no doubt that you can run sufficient background searches on people, but you're still setting up dates with virtual strangers. And a background check can't tell you everything. There must be better places to meet people in this city."

"Like where – your club? The lost-and-found box looks like a lingerie model's underwear drawer, so I think I'll pass. And it's not like I have loads of free time between my job and the work I do for you."

"What about co-workers?"

Felicity snorted. "I work with a lot of guys, but they're all tech heads and weekend gamers who have one-track, digital world minds – not exactly my type since I have wider interests. That leaves you and Diggle, and I doubt I'm _your_ type, so…"

"I wasn't aware I had a type," he said.

"Laurel, Helena, McKenna – trust me, you have a type." _And it's definitely not blonde, babbling IT girls_, she added silently.

Oliver nodded. "So if tech heads and gamers aren't your type, who is? Jocks? Suits?"

She shrugged as she logged off the computer and stood up. "Right now I'm taking Lindsay's advice and casting a wide net. It's been a while since I dated, to be honest. I briefly went through a bad boy phase in college where I was attracted to rockers in campus bands, but that ended badly. Generally, though, my type has always been the Daniel Jackson, manly nerd types." At Oliver's blank look, she prompted, "Stargate? Never mind."

"I still think it's a good idea for you to take some precautions – like sending a message to a friend when you get home every night."

"Fine – consider safety messaging officially instituted. If Lindsay's unavailable, I'll text you and Diggle. And I promise I'm being careful. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Actually, Diggle and I are having lunch at the diner if you want to join us. Carly mentioned she's missed seeing you."

She smiled, unable to stop the little burst of pleasure at his invitation. "Okay. I'll see you at lunch." She was halfway to the door when Oliver's voice stopped her.

"And Felicity?"

She turned, startled to see him right behind her. She really hated it when he snuck up on her like that. "What?"

Oliver leaned in and murmured, "Don't knock safe words until you've tried them." His expression relayed amusement; he was teasing her. And there it was again – that something else that she still hadn't quite figured out how to read.

Felicity could feel the heat climbing from her toes to her cheeks, the blush seeming to infuse her entire body. And then she fled the foundry as fast as her legs could carry her.

**Up Next: More online dating, and more friendship/relationship development between Felicity and Oliver as they discuss more personal subjects.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Oliver was walking down the stairs to Verdant's secret basement when his phone pinged. It had, in fact, been pinging all morning, notifying him of various news alerts. However, they weren't the kind of news alerts he had set, and he had a feeling he knew who was responsible.

He eyed the blonde woman tapping away at the keyboard, eyes fixed on her computer. "Felicity, what the hell is a 'Belieber' and why am I getting email alerts about it?"

She swiveled her chair around to look at him. "Because I signed you up for alerts from a few entertainment media outlets. Consider it your daily dose of pop culture because I think I speak for everyone when I say you are so far out of the loop that you're on another loop entirely. For all our sakes, at least scan the headlines so you can have some idea of what's happening in the world – and not just the doom and gloom of Starling City crime lords, North Korean baby dictator tantrums or natural disasters."

Oliver tried to hold onto his irritation. There were times when Felicity tested his patience; usually he'd snap, she'd snap back and then it was over. Lately, though, he found himself more bemused and amused by her than anything else.

He sighed and leveled her with his best intimidating stare. "I don't have time for this."

"Oh, come on, be a good sport. What else is going on in the celebrity news world today?"

He turned his attention back to his phone. "Something about Kourtney Kardashian. I remember her – I thought she was a porn star."

"That's her sister, Kim Kardashian. And she's not a porn star – just the subject of a celebrity sex tape scandal turned reality TV star. It's really a sad commentary on American television viewing standards when showing your lady bits gets you a TV deal and launches your whole dysfunctional family into pseudo-stardom. Though it's still not as bad as the ones who think popping out kids like baseballs at a batting range entitles them to a TV show. Or worse, the Honey Boo Boo crowd." She shuddered slightly. "Actually, maybe there is an upside to being an island castaway for a few years."

Oliver maintained his serious expression for a few more seconds before he felt the smile tugging at his lips. "I have no idea what any of that means, so maybe you're right." He sat down in the chair opposite her and glanced at his phone again. "They mention a Khloe Kardashian too – how many Kardashians are there?"

"Way too many," Felicity replied as she turned back to the computer.

Oliver found himself studying her profile. There was something about Felicity that made him feel lighter somehow. Maybe it was the babbling that got the best of her at the worst of times, or maybe it was simply that Felicity was one of the few people he knew not burdened by tragedy. She was bright and open and utterly lacking in subterfuge; whatever she was thinking was usually what came out of her mouth. And even when she managed to hold her tongue, he could still read her.

For one thing, he knew she was attracted to him. She'd been a little more star struck before she realized that Oliver Queen was the Hood, but it was still there. He could see it in the way she looked at him when he was training, and he'd felt it in the slight tremor of her body against his during her unarmed self-defense lessons. Women had come easily to him for so long that he usually just brushed off the attention and moved on.

In the beginning, he'd used her crush to his advantage, turning on the charm when he needed her computer expertise. Now he ignored the signs of Felicity's attraction because he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable around him. They were becoming friends, and Oliver enjoyed her company. Quite simply, she made him forget. When he was with her, she was usually talking nonstop. She talked about the challenges of being one of the few female IT specialists employed by Queen Consolidated. She talked about the office intrigues revealed by indiscriminate emails and dealing with her supervisor's ego trips. She even entertained him and Diggle one night by reading ridiculous dating profiles aloud as she weeded through her online dating matches.

Occasionally he asked about her dates. She had gone out with Gerwin the lawyer a couple of times, though so far it seemed to be strictly on a casual basis. She had also set up a few other dates, and it didn't take him long to realize that he checked his phone for messages a little more often when he knew she was out. He wasn't convinced that online dating was as safe as Felicity believed it to be, and that worry led him to check in with her at the end of date night on more than one occasion.

His phone pinged again, and Oliver realized that he'd been staring at Felicity for several minutes; something she was aware of if her tense posture was anything to go by. With a mental head shake, he stood and walked over to his weapons chest. When he felt her eyes upon him, he glanced back at her to find her looking at him with a curious expression.

He raised his brows. "Something on your mind?"

Felicity opened her mouth only to close it again rather abruptly. She shook her head but then said, "I was just wondering something, but it's totally not my business."

Oliver was intrigued by the slight flush making its way to her cheeks. "It must be interesting if it's making you blush. Just ask."

Her blush intensified. "I was just wondering if you'd ever made a sex tape – you know, back when you were the other Oliver."

Well. He'd told her to ask. "It's possible. I did a lot of stupid things when I was drunk. I do remember Tommy taping a bunch of us skinny dipping one night, but we erased that the next day." He felt his lips twitching at the look of horrified fascination on her face. "Felicity, my return from the dead was one of the biggest news stories of the year. I think if there were a sex tape of me floating around out there, we'd probably have seen it by now."

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense."

"I haven't gone through my DVD collection since I got back though. If I happen to run across one, I'll let you know."

"Run across what?" Diggle asked as he walked into the room.

Felicity popped out of her chair. "I'm going. To the bathroom."

Diggle looked at Oliver. "Something I said or just Felicity being Felicity?"

Oliver shook his head in amusement. "I need to find Tommy and go over the entertainment scheduled for this week."

* * *

Felicity couldn't believe she'd asked Oliver if he'd ever made a sex tape. What was wrong with her? Sometimes she wondered if there was some kind of disconnect between her brain and her mouth, and this was definitely one of those times. The club was quiet as she walked towards the bathroom, and she didn't notice Tommy until she practically ran into him.

"Oh. Tommy. Sorry, I didn't see you." She stepped back and out of his path. She had only met Tommy a couple of times, and he still made her uncomfortable, especially now that he was aware of the secrets Oliver was keeping.

"No problem. How are you, Felicity?" Tommy asked politely.

"I'm fine. Oliver is downstairs if you're looking for him," she replied.

"We have a meeting scheduled for this morning."

And he didn't look happy about it, she noted.

"But as long as you're here, you can help me with something."

Confused, Felicity followed Tommy over to the bar. "Ok."

Tommy picked up a martini shaker and poured out a small amount of lime green liquid into a shot glass. "The bartender is mixing some new drinks for ladies' night, and we're thinking of making this one the house special."

Felicity eyed it dubiously. "I might not be the best person to ask because I don't drink a lot of hard liquor. I'm more of a wine girl."

"So is Laurel, but she liked it. It's not too strong if that's what you're worried about."

She picked up the small glass and tipped the contents into her mouth. "Oh – wow, that's kind of good."

"How about this one?" Tommy handed her another small glass of green liquid.

"I'm sensing a theme with all the green here," she observed as she tasted the second drink.

"Well, the name of the club is Verdant," Tommy pointed out rather sardonically. "Oliver's little joke, I guess."

Felicity set the glass down on the bar. "It's not the kind of thing he jokes about. Since you're supposed to be his best friend, you should probably know that. And I'd go with the first drink." She stood up but paused when Tommy spoke.

"You seem like a nice girl, Felicity. Why do you help him when you know what he is?"

She turned and looked back at Tommy. "I help him because I know _who_ he is – and whatever you think, he's not a monster. Maybe you should ask him why he's doing this before you judge him too harshly."

"It's ok, Felicity. I'm well aware of Tommy's opinion of me."

Oliver's voice startled her, and she turned as he joined them at the bar. She grasped at a change of topic to break the sudden tension. "He just wanted my opinion about the new drink specials. I liked the first one even though I don't really drink hard liquor – not since that frat party where I did tequila shots and started licking the salt off my friend Lindsay's arm instead of mine. People thought I was bi-curious for the rest of the semester. Me and tequila – not a good mix." She paused as her common sense finally caught up with her tongue. Why, why, why did she always let Oliver make her so nervous that she babbled like an idiot? She cleared her throat. "But I wasn't."

Oliver had that expression on his face again as he looked at her, his head tilted slightly. "You weren't what?"

"Bi-curious. Or a lesbian. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I like men. I'm just gonna…" she waved her hand in the direction of the ladies room and walked away quickly, breathing a sigh of relief when the bathroom door closed behind her. She had just told Oliver Queen, who was essentially her boss, that she licked salt off her best friend's arm while doing tequila shots. And that was after asking him if he'd ever made a sex tape. She glanced at her watch; only 10:30 a.m. It was going to be a _really_ long day.

* * *

Felicity scanned through her emails while waiting for Lindsay in front of Café Mondo, a little bistro in Five Points known for its excellent lunch menu. She had managed to mostly avoid Oliver for the rest of the morning after embarrassing herself in front of him and Tommy, and she'd practically run from the foundry at lunch time. Of course, she'd be back there in a couple of hours, but Oliver was rarely on site during the afternoon. And since it was Saturday, she knew he'd be busy with the club and patrol later. She might not see him again at all until Monday, by which time she hoped he would have forgotten any mention of bi-curiosity.

"Sorry I'm late!"

Felicity looked up to see Lindsay rushing towards her. Tall and slender with tawny blonde hair and brown eyes, she looked more like a swimsuit model than a newspaper reporter. She and Lindsay had been friends since freshman year at university and had even shared a dorm for two of those years. While Felicity had been content to spend most of her free time with her computers, Lindsay had always been the more outgoing of the two and dragged Felicity along for the ride.

"I wasn't waiting long. It takes longer to find parking now that I can't go through the park," Felicity replied, hugging her friend.

Lindsay grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the entrance of the café. "Speaking of which, I started following crime reports for this area after your mugging, and here's the weird thing. Crime is down by a third from last month's reports – no explanation. The SCPD does regular patrols in this area, but they were doing that before. So then it occurred to me that it might have something to do with Starling City's hooded vigilante – a few people claim they've spotted him around here in recent weeks."

It wasn't the first time Lindsay had brought up The Hood – not a surprise given that she was a reporter. Thankfully, her interests ran more towards politics and corporations than stories of vigilantes lurking about the city. But as reports of The Hood's activities increased, Felicity wondered if that would change.

"It's possible," Felicity replied after her friend added their names to the waiting list. "And on a different topic, I have another date tonight."

"Gerwin again?" Lindsay made a face. "I still can't get past that name. I mean, picture it – you're in bed, in the moment, and then what? 'Oh Gerwin, yes!'" Lindsay made a mock "O" face.

Felicity couldn't help laughing at her friend. "Come on, he's a nice guy. A little serious, but nice."

"Felicity, you don't need 'nice' right now, you need to get laid," Lindsay commented. "People at Starling City Retirement Center see more action than you."

"Felicity?"

Felicity froze before turning to see Oliver standing behind her. Within moments, she felt the telltale blush creeping up her neck and cursed her fair skin. "Oliver – hi." Had he heard Lindsay? Something about the expression on his face told her that he had. And worse, his mother was right behind him. "And Mrs. Queen – or Mrs. Steele? It's nice to see you."

Moira Queen stepped forward and held out her hand. "Moira is fine. Have we met?"

"Felicity works in the IT department at Queen Consolidated," Oliver explained. "She's also the one who set up my router at the club, and she designed Verdant's website."

Felicity shook Moira's hand, trying to think of something to say. When a throat cleared behind her, she remembered Lindsay. "Oh! Sorry. This is my friend Lindsay Parker. She's a reporter for the Starling City Register."

Oliver smiled politely while Moira said, "I think I remember you from the governor's fundraiser last month."

"I was there, and I asked you some questions about the Queen Foundation and the projects you're sponsoring this year," Lindsay replied. She glanced curiously between Felicity and Oliver.

Felicity knew Lindsay must be wondering why she hadn't mentioned helping Oliver out at Verdant. When Oliver first appeared in the IT department requesting her help, she couldn't wait to tell her friend about meeting _the_ Oliver Queen. But after learning of his alter ego, Felicity had decided staying mum was better than accidentally giving away too much information.

"That's right." Moira glanced at Oliver, who was still looking at Felicity. "Our table is ready. Are you still waiting?"

Felicity nodded. "We weren't expecting it to be this busy."

"You could join us if you like," Moira offered.

"Oh – no, we couldn't intr-"

"That sounds like a great idea," Oliver interrupted her.

"Good – I'll let them know we're a table of four now." Moira stepped away to speak to the hostess.

Felicity crossed her arms and shot Oliver a look that clearly indicated her annoyance.

Lindsay glanced between the two of them and said, "Felicity, you never mentioned helping Oliver with the computers at his club."

"She comes in a few times a week," Oliver said. "She's the best IT specialist at Queen Consolidated."

"Well, it's good that you recognize her value," Lindsay commented, casting a speculative look at Felicity.

"I think the table's ready," Felicity said. "Your mother is waving us over."

Oliver swept out an arm. "After you, ladies."

Felicity was far too uncomfortable to eat her lunch as Lindsay chatted amicably with Moira and Oliver about some of her recent news stories. She pushed the food around on her plate, taking a bite here and there. Oliver and Lindsay both looked at her occasionally since being quiet was a total departure from her usual habit of runaway monologues.

She found her mind wandering as she watched Oliver eat. It was clear that he enjoyed his food. He had ordered the spinach and ricotta stuffed chicken rolls with vegetables, and she watched as he carefully cut his bites, his strong hands handling the utensils with deft ease. He ate with enthusiasm, a look of enjoyment on his face. She wondered what he had eaten on the island – fish? Other animals? Whatever he had survived on for those five years, it had taught him to appreciate good food. And according to her dating philosophy, he probably appreciated other things just as much because if eating was now a sensual experience for him… her fork clattered against her plate when she realized he was looking straight at her. He took a slow bite and smirked at her. What was he, a mind reader?

Felicity took a sip of her water in an effort to cool down and realized that Moira and Lindsay were both glancing between her and Oliver now. There was no way in hell Lindsay was _not_ going to ask her a boatload of questions about Oliver once they left. Moira broke the silence by asking Felicity about her work at the company, and Felicity actually managed to answer coherently and without embarrassing herself for once.

When they were finished, Oliver picked up the check despite Felicity's protests. While he was busy paying the bill, Moira turned to Felicity. "It was lovely to meet you today, Felicity."

"You too, Mrs…. Moira," she answered.

And then Oliver was there. "I'll see you on Monday?" When she nodded, he smiled at her before turning to Lindsay. "It was nice to meet you. If you ever want to visit Verdant, I can have your name put on the VIP list."

"Thanks. I'll take you up on that."

Oliver ushered his mother out, and Lindsay was silent until she and Felicity had walked a block in the opposite direction. Then she slapped Felicity on the arm.

"Ow!" Felicity glared at Lindsay. "You know, you should really try to curb those violent impulses."

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "Like that hurt. And if it did, you deserve it. I cannot believe that you didn't tell me that you're hanging out with Oliver Queen a few times a week."

"Ok, we are _not_ hanging out, we're working. Or I'm working, and he's usually not even there."

"Felicity, you were watching him eat, and since I know all about your theories on men's eating habits and how they relate to the bedroom, I know exactly what you were thinking about. And who could blame you? He is… wow."

Felicity threw up her hands. "Ok, so my mind went there. But you know what this is like? It's like Tyler Manning all over again." It had been a while since she thought about Tyler Manning, but the parallels couldn't be ignored.

Tyler Manning had been a star forward on the Starling University basketball team when Felicity and Lindsay were students there. And when Tyler started having trouble with his grades, Felicity had been assigned to tutor him during her junior year. Tyler was a sports star on campus, but he was also a genuinely nice guy well-liked by all of his peers. And Felicity fell hard that semester. Even after he no longer needed her help with his studies, he'd remained friendly toward her. As a result, her crush had persisted until the day he graduated.

They walked in silence for a few moments. Lindsay spoke first. "Speaking of Tyler, you know he plays for the Lakers now. I saw him when I was in Los Angeles a few weeks ago, and he'll be here in Starling City next week for a game. He asked about you."

"Of course he did because he's a nice guy. But it doesn't mean he ever thought of me as anything but his tutor," Felicity responded in an exasperated tone. "And I can fantasize about Oliver all day long, but that's about as likely to happen as the sky falling tomorrow."

"I don't know – you guys looked like you were having a moment there for a little while. Even his mom noticed," Lindsay observed.

Felicity rolled her eyes. "He was just teasing me because I blurted out my dating philosophy theories one night after that blind date you set me up on." She sighed. "Can we just talk about something else? Like what I'm going to wear on my date later?"

"You never mentioned Gerwin's eating habits. Thoughts?"

"He kind of has a routine, and he's a little fussy with the napkins. If I had to guess, I'd say he undresses, folds his clothes, puts them away, and then joins you in the bed – possibly with his socks still on since he's always complaining about restaurants being drafty."

Lindsay laughed. "God help you. Come on, let's go shopping. And we're meeting Tyler when he comes to town – no arguments. You're over that anyway."

That was true, Felicity thought. It wouldn't bother her to see Tyler now, and it might be fun to meet him again when she wasn't suffering from a silly crush. And if she could get over Tyler, she could figure out a way to get over these unwanted feelings for Oliver, too.

**A/N: I just want to thank everyone again for the reviews, follows and favorites for this story. It's a gratifying welcome to a new fandom, and I really appreciate it. I'm still replying to reviews (about halfway done now) and I will get to all of you. If you have questions or constructive criticism for the story, feel free to leave it in review or PM form and I'll reply as soon as I can.**

**Up Next: Oliver gets a little more personal with Felicity, Felicity has a very bad date, and Tyler Manning comes to town. I'll get it up soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I just want to take a moment to thank my readers and reviewers again. I'm still answering PMs and reviews, but I hope to be caught up this weekend. You guys are all awesome for leaving such great feedback for my story, and I appreciate it more than I can say. Hope you enjoy the update!**

**Chapter 5**

Oliver walked through Verdant, careful to project the lighthearted, playboy persona that his patrons expected of him. It was important for him to be seen each night, both before and after his patrols, and occasionally he kept an especially high profile while Diggle donned the hood. Tonight Diggle was manning the police scanner while Oliver did his due diligence at the club. Three women waved him over asking for a photo, so he did a shot with them and posed for the camera. Out of all of his many faces, this was the one he hated the most.

Once upon a time, he had lived this existence. The careless playboy hadn't been an act at all back then, and he'd relished the rush of spending too much money and driving his sports car way too fast. And while his relationship with Laurel had slowed his downward spiral, it hadn't stopped it. The evidence of that lay with her sister in the watery grave he'd sent her to with his selfish actions.

Not for the first time, he wondered what his life would be like now if he hadn't boarded the Queen's Gambit with his father. What if instead of asking Laurel's sister to sneak away with him, he'd stayed and talked to Laurel about his misgivings? But he never allowed his mind to dwell too long on what ifs because it was a pointless exercise. Even if his father had sailed alone, he'd likely still be dead, and the effects of his shady business dealings would still be spreading through Starling City like a cancer. He had to believe that fate had always meant to steer him down this path in order to right his father's wrongs. He'd lost too much, sacrificed too much, to believe otherwise.

Oliver shook off his increasingly dark thoughts and walked over to the bar where Tommy was conversing with the bartender. "Looks like a good night."

Tommy looked over at him. "We're currently the most popular nightclub in the city despite being in the middle of the Glades."

"The idle rich are bored and jaded," Oliver pointed out. "And partying in the Glades adds an element of danger. We were the same at one time – worse even."

"That was a long time ago," Tommy replied evenly. "We're not really the same people anymore."

Oliver knew that what he really meant was that _he_ wasn't the same. He couldn't blame his friend for feeling that way, mostly because he wasn't wrong. The Oliver that Tommy had grown up with died on Lian Yu after having his humanity chipped away over five long years. Tommy's Oliver had been too weak to survive the hell he'd been put through. He'd had to adapt to survive, and adapt he did.

Oliver's attention was caught by Diggle as he approached the bar quickly, and all of his instincts screamed that something was wrong. "What is it?"

"Break-ins were reported at Felicity's apartment building tonight," Diggle replied. "It just came across the scanner."

Oliver pulled out his phone and checked for any messages. "Her security system wasn't tripped." He immediately hit Felicity's speed dial number.

"I already called her – it's going to voicemail, but that's probably because she had a date tonight. I don't think she's home," Diggle said.

Oliver hung up when he got Felicity's voicemail. "I have a set of her keys, so I'll go check it out. Can you handle things here?" he asked Tommy, who nodded.

It took Oliver thirty minutes to reach Felicity's building. When he pulled up, several patrol cars were parked out front. He got off his bike and pulled his helmet off as he approached one of the officers near the entrance. "What's going on?"

"We had some reported break-ins," the officer replied.

The way he was looking at Oliver clearly indicated that he recognized him. "My friend lives in this building. She's not home yet but I have a set of her keys. The super knows me if you want to check with him." He gave the officer Felicity's name and apartment number and waited for him to verify Oliver's claim.

A few minutes later he allowed Oliver through, and Oliver hurried up to Felicity's floor. He let himself in and entered the code to disarm the security system before closing the door. A table lamp had been left on and provided a soft glow as he examined the room for any signs of a disturbance. But after walking through each room of the apartment, he concluded that no one had been there.

After trying to call Felicity once more, he settled on sending her a text. _Break-ins reported at your building tonight. No worries – all clear. _He checked his watch to find it was now almost 9:00 and wondered when Felicity would be home. Judging by previous dates she'd had with Gerwin, he doubted she'd be too late.

Oliver hit Diggle's speed dial number. "I'm here and everything looks fine. Any other information coming across the scanner?"

"Sounds like five apartments were hit, but no one was home in four of the cases. They're reporting an attempted assault at one of the apartments, but I don't know the details."

"Five apartments being hit at the same time on the same night is a big job," Oliver said. "An organized job."

"I agree. And it's quite a coincidence that just a few weeks after Felicity's purse gets stolen, her building is targeted."

"I don't believe in coincidence," Oliver replied. "I'll get Felicity to check crime logs tomorrow and see if any other mugging victims have had their apartments burglarized. Meanwhile, I'm going to stay here tonight. I'd appreciate it if you could drop my bag by on your way home." He kept an overnight bag at Verdant since both being a nightclub owner and his vigilante activities meant that he kept very odd hours.

A few times he'd just crashed at the foundry, prompting Diggle to suggest that he renovate the basement into an apartment of sorts. He had to admit it wasn't a bad idea, but a part of him didn't want to make that space too comfortable. The basement where he trained was cold and bare, lacking any semblance of a homey environment. It made it easier for him to connect to the more primitive nature he'd developed on the island because it lacked pretense. It was completely outside the experience of the old Oliver Queen.

But it wasn't just him anymore. Diggle and Felicity spent a lot of time there too, and Felicity in particular seemed out of place in the dark world where he felt most at home. With her brightly painted nails tapping at the keyboard and her near-constant commentary, she brightened the foundry with her mere presence. They were complete and utter opposites, but she'd accepted him, darkness and all, after having known him for just a few months. She and Diggle were the only two people in his life he actually was comfortable with.

Essentially, he felt caught between the Oliver of old and the one who'd returned from the island because almost everyone – his mother, Thea, Laurel, even Tommy – seemed to be searching for signs of their Oliver who'd been lost at sea. They were trying to bridge the gap between that Oliver and the virtual stranger he now was to them, but Oliver knew that was an impossible feat because the divide was too great. Tommy seemed to understand that now that he knew Oliver was the vigilante – for him, there was no bridge that could connect his best friend to The Hood because The Hood was a murderer, plain and simple.

He supposed he couldn't fault Tommy for that. If their situations were reversed, he'd likely react the same way. He'd abhorred the violence he'd been subjected to on the island, and he'd resisted engaging in it until his choice had been simple – adapt or die. In the end, survival won out, but the cost had been a piece of his soul.

Diggle, in his own words, was there to remind him that he still had a soul. He'd been a soldier, and he'd had to make some hard choices himself, so he understood the cost. Felicity, though – she was someone who'd never had to make those kinds of choices. Her life had been the definition of ordinary before she'd found him bleeding in the back seat of her mini cooper. He realized now that he'd trusted her even before that night. If he hadn't, he never would have continued to go to her for help with his increasingly bad cover stories.

Oliver had lied to Felicity and then dragged her into The Hood's dangerous world, but she still trusted him. She saw the man beneath both the hood and his public image, but she wasn't running. She didn't agree with the violent manner in which he chose to pursue his targets, and she wasn't shy about telling him when she thought he was wrong. And it didn't matter how much he growled, she didn't budge.

Despite their many differences, and despite her lack of experience with the kind of lives he and Diggle had led, Felicity saw something in him that was inherently good. She'd told Tommy that he wasn't a monster, and he knew she must believe that because she'd never stay if she didn't. She could easily help him find Walter without helping him with the myriad other tasks he'd assigned her.

Felicity made him feel like a different person – not the old Oliver, and not the vigilante born on Lian Yu. One thing he was certain of was that Felicity was becoming increasingly important to him. He valued her friendship, and she made his days a little livelier with her funny and endearing habit of babbling about almost everything. She was cute when she got embarrassed, and he suddenly remembered the way he'd caught her looking at him while eating lunch earlier that day. She was so easy to read, and he'd known exactly what she was thinking about.

Oliver couldn't help teasing her, something his mother had picked up on if her questions about Felicity were any indication. He'd even allowed his mind to wander a little, wondering what she'd be like in bed. They were two healthy adults, and he wasn't blind to the fact that Felicity was an attractive woman. But he also didn't intend to blur that line between them, so he shut down those thoughts before they could fully form.

When Diggle arrived with his bag, Oliver headed for the bathroom to change out of his suit. Looking out the window, he could see that police cruisers were still out front; with five crime scenes to process, he knew they'd probably be there for a while. Felicity's phone was still going to voicemail, so he sat down to wait for her.

* * *

Felicity watched as Gerwin wiped his fingers on his napkin for at least the tenth time since he'd begun eating his main course. It wouldn't have been such a big deal if they were eating messy finger foods, but he was using a knife and fork, and he hadn't even touched his dinner roll in all its buttery goodness. In fact, he always left the bread sitting on or beside his plate and frankly, it was beginning to bother her. What kind of person _never_ ate his dinner roll? Even Oliver ate bread, and he was a health fanatic who spent hours sculpting his body into a freaking machine, for crying out loud.

She jerked her thoughts away from Oliver and instead took a sip of wine from her very clean wine glass. She knew it was very clean because Gerwin had made their waiter exchange the glasses twice – the first time because of a water spot, the second time because he claimed the glasses had a strange odor. Felicity couldn't smell anything but knew from previous experiences that arguing with him would only delay the inevitable.

"Are you sure you're not cold?" Gerwin asked her. "You probably should have left your sweater on."

She forced a smile as she took a bite of her lasagna, the best thing about the date so far. "I'm fine, really." She'd opted for a strapless, midnight blue dress for her date. The fitted design complemented her figure, and she'd paired it with a silver shrug that matched the skinny belt cinching in her small waist. Once again she'd left her glasses at home, and she'd splurged on yet another blowout, giving her long, unruly curls a sleek finish. And what did she get for her trouble? An admonition about the chilly temperatures in restaurants, further proof that things with Gerwin were at a disappointing standstill.

Was it too much to ask that he be overcome with lust at the mere sight of her bare shoulders? Not that she wanted to sleep with him. At this point, she was pretty much convinced that she wanted nothing to do with his doubtless very tidy bedroom. Still, it would be nice to feel that he at least appreciated her efforts. Unfortunately, her other dates hadn't yielded any better prospects. At this rate, her dry spell promised to last well into the next decade. It was a very sobering thought when faced with a future sidekicking for a certain vigilante who fully embraced a shirtless existence at least fifty percent of the time.

When they were finished, Gerwin walked her to her car and politely kissed her cheek, a move that further irritated her. Four dates in and he couldn't even be bothered to try hitting first base. Felicity got into her mini cooper and turned on her phone. "Call Lindsay," she commanded, reaching up to adjust her earpiece before pulling away from the curb.

"Calling Lindsay," Siri responded.

When her friend picked up, Felicity said, "I'm done with Gerwin."

"Still no improvements? I thought for sure that dress would get some kind of reaction," Lindsay replied, raising her voice to be heard above the din of the bullpen.

"The only reaction it got was his concern that I might be cold," Felicity retorted.

"Maybe he's gay."

"Just because I'm not his type doesn't mean he's gay," she pointed out. "But it does mean I need to find a new pond to cast my line in."

"Well, you still have that other coffee date on Tuesday. What's his name?"

"Mark," Felicity answered. "He's actually a police officer for the SCPD." Felicity didn't mention that she'd already ruled him out as serious relationship material since she didn't want to add lying to the police to her list of things to worry about. And if she started dating a cop, it could get sticky down the road if she continued helping Oliver with his extracurricular activities. But he was cute, so if a miracle happened and she actually had even a little chemistry with the guy, it might be worth exploring.

"Ok, so there's Mark. And if all else fails, Tyler will be here on Thursday."

"No matchmaking, Lindsay. I'm serious," she warned her friend.

"I'm not matchmaking. But he might have hot friends."

Felicity snorted. "Who all live in Los Angeles."

"They're pro athletes, Felicity. They can afford to buy plane tickets."

Felicity's snarky retort died as she pulled into the parking area in front of her apartment building. "What the… hey Lindsay, I'm gonna have to call you back." She carefully parked her mini cooper in its designated spot and got out, eyes on the police cruisers parked outside her building.

An officer met her at the entrance. "Do you live here, ma'am?"

"Yes." She gave her name and apartment number which he checked against a list he was holding. "What's going on?"

"There was a rash of break-ins here tonight," he answered. "But your apartment was cleared by the manager, so you can go on in."

She felt a chill run down her spine. "I have a security system. Did someone try to break into my apartment? Did the alarm go off?" She pulled out her phone and started checking for messages.

"There were no reports of alarms going off, but we can have an officer walk up with you."

Felicity saw a message from Oliver and opened it. "Never mind – a friend of mine said he checked on my apartment and everything's fine. Thanks."

He nodded as she walked into the building. By the time she reached her apartment, she was beginning to regret not taking the officer up on his offer to have someone escort her to the door. _It's fine_, she reassured herself. _Oliver wouldn't have left if he thought you were in danger_. She pulled out her keys and quietly unlocked the door. Before opening it, she also pulled out her Taser, wishing she'd taken the time to practice. She'd watched the training video, but that wasn't making her feel very confident at the moment.

She dropped the keys into her bag and flipped the safety switch on the Taser before carefully opening the door. The security system beeped and she quickly entered the code. She looked around the room, but nothing seemed out of place. The lamp was still on in the corner – not very eco-conscious, but she compensated by using energy efficient bulbs because she hated entering a dark apartment at night. With a sigh of relief, she turned to lock the door.

"Hi."

Felicity shrieked, and her bag went flying as she whirled around and discharged her Taser. The probes flew out in search of a target, finding one in her sofa just as she saw Oliver standing across the room near the hallway. For once, words escaped her as she fought to draw air into her panicked lungs.

Oliver raised his brows. "I think you disabled the sofa," he declared solemnly.

Felicity dropped the Taser and backed up, sliding down the door with one hand on her chest. "Oh my God! Are you trying to give me a heart attack? What the hell are you doing here?"

"I sent you a message," he replied, carefully stepping over the wires to pick up her Taser. "You must have seen the police officers outside." He flipped the switch and popped out the cartridge, effectively neutralizing the danger from the wires and probes.

"You said you checked my apartment and everything was okay – not that you were still lurking inside waiting for me to come home," Felicity cried out. Her heart was still racing, and her palms felt clammy. "I could have tased you."

"Really? Because your aim could stand some improvement," he replied with a shake of his head. "If you're going to carry a weapon for self-defense, you should practice with it first."

Felicity had never been so tempted to throw something at someone. "You startled me."

"Felicity, if I really had been an intruder, you'd be dead – or at least incapacitated. An attacker isn't going to announce what he's doing before he does it." Oliver leaned down, pulled her up and led her over to the sofa. "Just sit down and take a few deep breaths."

Felicity concentrated on her breathing for a few seconds before speaking again. "What exactly happened here tonight?"

"According to your building manager, five apartments were burglarized. The tenants were all out except for your neighbor downstairs, Anna Kincady. Do you know her?"

Felicity swallowed hard, nodding. "Not well, but we speak in passing. She's a third grade teacher, so I see her more on weekends. Is she ok?"

"She said that a man rushed her as she was entering her apartment. Based on her description of events, it sounds like he intended to assault her, but she hit him with a lamp and managed to lock herself inside the bathroom," Oliver explained. "He apparently fled after that. This all happened about two hours ago. I tried to call you, but your phone was off, so I sent the message instead."

She hated to voice her next concern. "Do you think this is related to the mugging?"

"Probably, which is why you're going to hack the police reports tomorrow so we can track the list of stolen items through local fences and pawn shops. Diggle brought my bag over, and I'll get whatever else I need tomorrow."

"Why do you need your bag?" Felicity asked, frowning.

"Because I'm staying here until we figure out what's going on. It shouldn't take long – a few days at most."

"A few days? You're staying here _for a few days_? Oliver, I have a security system – one that you paid for, by the way. I don't need a bodyguard," she protested. Her apartment was a nice, two bedroom unit with plenty of space for her needs, but it was definitely not big enough for her to live with Oliver. She could practically feel the oxygen being sucked out of the room just thinking about it.

Oliver regarded her calmly. "Let's say the alarm system goes off, Felicity. If I'm at Verdant, it will take me thirty minutes to get here - and it's at least twenty, maybe more, from the manor. Even if a police cruiser is patrolling the area, we're talking about a ten minute response time, minimum. Ten minutes is a long time to fend off an attacker before help arrives. Odds are they won't hit the same building twice, but I'm not willing to gamble with your life – not after a woman was attacked downstairs just two hours ago."

_He has a point – a very good point actually_, she thought with a sigh of defeat. "I don't think my odds of fighting off an attacker for ten minutes are very good," she admitted. "Or probably even five minutes unless I happen to get lucky with the Taser, or he trips on something."

"I don't either," Oliver said. "Which is why I'm going to stay with you. Tomorrow we can go to the foundry and get started."

A knock at the door startled her, and she made a squeaking sound that would have been embarrassing under less stressful circumstances. Oliver put a finger to his lips and she nodded, understanding that he wanted her to be quiet. He approached the door, silent as a panther, and looked through the peephole before unlocking the door.

Felicity stood, surprised to see Detective Lance and a uniformed officer at her door. Oliver stood aside for the two men to enter. "Detective – what can we do for you?"

Lance looked between Oliver and Felicity. "I saw your name on the list of people who had entered the building, and I recognized Ms. Smoak's name from the mugging report a few weeks ago. Any signs of disturbance here?"

Oliver shook his head. "I arrived first and used my key to come in and check the apartment, and the alarm system hadn't been tripped. Felicity just arrived a few minutes ago."

"Your neighbor down the hall reported hearing a scream," Lance said, eyeing the wires and probes from the Taser.

"That was me," Felicity explained. "My phone was turned off and I didn't know Oliver was here. I mean I knew he had been here, but I thought he left, and I told the officer downstairs it was fine and he didn't need to send anyone up with me, but then I got up here, and I was nervous because it was like one of those sorority house slasher films where the girl goes off on her own and gets whacked, you know? So I got out my Taser which, I admit, I don't exactly know how to use, and I came inside and then Oliver startled me, I screamed, and I kind of killed my sofa." She paused and took a breath, gesturing to the wires on the floor. "I think I need to watch the training video again."

Lance looked a little taken aback by her longwinded explanation, and the uniformed officer coughed to cover his obvious mirth. Felicity had a feeling that the words 'dumb blonde' were going to be featured somewhere in the retelling over donuts at the station later.

Oliver walked over and placed a hand on her back in a move obviously meant to calm her. "She's still a little nervous. Do you have any leads on who was responsible for the break-ins? The building manager said they all occurred at roughly the same time."

"We have leads we're checking into," Lance replied vaguely. "I suspect there's a connection between some of the muggings in the park and subsequent break-ins at victims' homes. They may have initially targeted your apartment, Ms. Smoak, but changed their minds after realizing you had an alarm system."

Felicity was suddenly very glad that Oliver had shot down her protests about said alarm system being installed. She was equally grateful she wasn't going to have to come home to an empty apartment for the next few days. Uncomfortable as sharing a living space with him was probably going to be, she'd sleep much better knowing he was between her and anything that might try to come through her door.

After the detective left, Oliver disposed of the wires and probes from her Taser attack, and Felicity went to her bedroom to shower and change clothes. She emerged a half hour later in yoga pants and a T-shirt which she saw Oliver looking at in amusement.

"Slow and Slinky Wins the Race?" Oliver asked.

"Hey, I loved slinkies when I was a kid – and they'll keep going forever down a flight of stairs," she replied, tracing the dancing slinky on the front of her shirt with her finger.

"You look like you're feeling better," he observed.

"I am. Thanks for coming over here and checking things out, and for waiting for me to come home even though you scared ten years off my life. And thanks for staying even though I feel bad about you sleeping on the couch." Felicity twisted the hem of her T-shirt, suddenly feeling nervous again. "My bed's not huge, but I would offer to share it with you except that I move around a lot when I'm sleeping. I guess we could build a pillow barrier, but I can't promise you I wouldn't roll right across it at some point during the night, and then you'd wake up to find me sprawled all over you which would probably be less fun for you than me. And I'm babbling again – I do that when I get nervous."

"I've noticed," Oliver said, smiling suddenly. "And the couch is fine. I've slept on worse."

"I guess there weren't any beds on the island."

"No."

A tense silence followed, and Felicity's gaze slid away from his. She wanted to ask him what he'd slept on while on the island, but she'd never actually asked him any questions about his time there. She was curious – for one thing, she wanted to know how he'd gotten all the scars she'd seen on his body. But she recognized that those were details that were deeply personal and probably disturbing, and she figured that if Oliver wanted to talk about what happened on the island, he would say something. Since he never brought it up, she didn't either.

She could feel him watching her, and her anxiety came flooding back suddenly - and with her anxiety came her urge to talk incessantly. How was she going to survive a few days of this kind of tension? She was going to need a mute button for sure.

"You should go to bed, Felicity," Oliver said. "I'll see you in the morning."

She nodded and went back to her bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind her. It was going to be an interesting couple of days, to say the least.

**A/N: Okay, so Tyler will arrive soon, but it will be around the end of the next chapter. Sometimes when I'm writing, my outline ge****ts expanded and that's what happened here. Basically, this chapter grew out of me wanting a scene where Felicity tased her couch lol. I also wanted Oliver and Felicity to be forced into a situation where they'd share more, but I wanted it to be logical – i.e. I needed a good reason for Oliver to be staying with her. Hopefully it's not too contrived.**

**Up Next: Team Arrow tracks down the burglary ring while Oliver and Felicity try to adjust to being in each other's space. Felicity has a bad date and drowns her sorrows at the club, much to the amusement of everyone – and Tyler Manning comes to town. I'll get it up as soon as I can. Thanks to all who are reading and reviewing!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing **** And no beta – all mistakes are mine.**

**Chapter 6**

Oliver awoke as he always did; suddenly, and with full awareness of where he was. He stared at the ceiling for a moment, surprised that he'd actually slept. Sleep had been a difficult thing to come by since his return from the island.

When he glanced at his watch, he was even more surprised to find that it was almost 7:00 which meant he'd slept for a good five hours. He'd lain awake for a while thinking – thinking about Laurel, but also thinking about Felicity and how beautiful she'd looked in blue. Eventually he shut down his brain and relaxed, expecting to manage only the three or so hours that had become his norm. He wondered why he should sleep better on Felicity's sofa than in the comfort of his own room at the mansion. But then, Felicity's apartment wasn't home to the ghosts of all his failures, so maybe it made sense in a strange way.

He got up and folded the blankets, placing them on the nearby chair and arranging the throw pillows along the sofa back before sitting again. If he were being honest, he felt oddly comfortable in Felicity's space. It was open and bright with a lot of color everywhere, and it suited her personality. He'd always found apartments to be rather soulless with their plain walls of white, cream or beige, but it appeared that Felicity had gotten around that. _Probably by paying a re-decorating deposit_, he thought as his eyes wandered about the room.

The living room was large and shared space with a dining area off the kitchen. The wood floors held a soft, warm glow mirrored by the deep red of an accent wall by the small dining room table. Two walls were painted a soft, buttercream shade that seemed to absorb the sunlight streaming through the windows while the third, largely taken up by a built-in bookcase, was lavender with sage green shelving.

What looked to be original artwork graced the walls, and he was struck by one painting of a small, blonde girl walking along a dirt road lined by tall, dark tree trunks. A canopy of twisting branches and fall leaves blocked the sky, and the road stretched on seemingly without end. It was the kind of painting that could make one feel both hopeful and hopeless at the same time, and it seemed an odd choice for someone like Felicity. The other paintings were lighter in both subject and color, but many of them appeared to have been done by the same artist.

The living room furniture had been arranged around a large, red area rug with a patterned design featuring many of the other colors in the room. Muted lavender grey drapes and cream colored blinds covered the two large windows that overlooked a neighborhood park, and two armchairs had been positioned in front of the windows. One chair was a solid sage color that matched both the bookcase and a diamond pattern in the area rug, and the other chair was pale lavender with large, slate grey polka dots on the seat and back cushions.

A low, wooden coffee table in a similar slate shade separated the chairs and the sofa. A few candles and magazines littered the top – he saw Mental Floss, Wired, and Edge mixed in with Entertainment Weekly, Nylon, and In Style. He wasn't certain why the fashion magazines surprised him, but they did, and it added yet another layer to the Felicity he was getting to know.

The sofa had a pinstripe pattern in lavender, purple and grey, and brighter purple and red throw pillows added a pop of color. A matching slate end table held a red table lamp that looked like four glass bubbles fused together, and the bubble pattern was repeated in a ceiling light fixture. The pale red, purple and grey glass bubbles appeared to cascade from the ceiling, and they diffused the bright light of the bulbs without darkening the room. He hadn't turned on the overhead lights in this part of the room the previous night, but he decided it probably created a very relaxing effect when she was home in the evenings.

Oliver stood and wandered over to the bookcase that was crammed with books on a variety of subjects. There were plenty of books on computer programming, but he also saw many classics: Shakespeare, Austen, and a few books on Victorian and twentieth century poetry. She seemed to have an interest in both young adult and mystery novels, and he saw several nonfiction books as well. He raised his brows at a few of the titles, such as 'The Madwoman in the Attic: The Woman Writer and the Nineteenth Century Literary Imagination' and 'Sex with Kings: 500 Years of Adultery, Power, Rivalry, and Revenge.' There was also something called 'Play Between Worlds: Exploring Online Game Culture' – he made a mental note to ask her about that one.

He didn't see any CDs though he knew Felicity liked music; she often had her ear buds in while working at the foundry. He suspected she had long ago made the switch to digital files like Thea had. Since his return, he'd noticed that CDs seemed to be a dying concept with the prevalence of mp3 players. He switched his attention to her DVD collection. She had a lot of movies, some he'd heard of and some he hadn't. She had an even larger number of boxed sets from TV shows, which gave him pause. Did she even have a TV?

He glanced around the room, eyes settling on a large, dark wood cabinet against the wall in the corner. It moved easily due to wheels on the bottom, and when he opened the doors, he found a flat screen TV, a satellite receiver, and a DVD player. He was surprised that she hadn't mounted it to the wall like most people, but it would likely spoil the effect of the living space she'd created if she did. And despite the fact that none of the colors or patterns was anything that he'd have chosen, before _or_ after the island, he liked the way she'd woven them together to create a quirky but interesting room. Quirky and interesting – kind of like her.

He showered and dressed in the spare bathroom before storing his bag in her home office and heading into the kitchen. He finally found coffee beans in her freezer and pulled them out – a special blend called Jamaica Me Crazy that he couldn't help smiling at. He ground the beans and got the coffee started before opening the blinds on the kitchen window. The red and buttercream color scheme had been extended to the kitchen, and it had an inviting effect.

Oliver could easily imagine Felicity cooking there, maybe listening to music or watching something on her laptop as she moved around the kitchen. A ceramic tile backsplash above the stove and kitchen sink featured a golden wall framed by matching ebony flower vases. The flowers on one side were dark red and on the other side, yellow. A large wine glass took up the center, and wine was being poured from both sides – on the left, a blood red liquid splashed into the glass and on the right, a pale golden one. There was a certain symmetry to it that appealed to him.

Wondering if the noise of the coffee grinder had awakened Felicity, he walked back to her bedroom and knocked softly. "Felicity?" When there was no answer, he opened the door quietly. More color greeted him in her bedroom. Her bed was to the left against a bright turquoise wall, her comforter a similar blue with white sheets and orange, blue and white accent pillows. He was almost disappointed to see white walls until he noticed the wall around the large, bay window was painted dark orange, and the window seat cushion was a lighter orange shade. White, gauzy sheers covered the window, and turquoise drapes with orange trim were pulled away on each side.

To his right, the hardwood floors were covered by a large rug in shades of blue, and the strangest chair he'd ever seen sat atop it. It looked like an armchair that had been extended into a sofa, and it featured a dizzying array of colors in varying stripes, both horizontal and vertical. The dominant colors were turquoise, orange and white with a black and white stripe that repeated in blocks, but the chair featured smaller blocks of other colors as well. It looked more like an abstract painting than furniture, but he somehow wasn't surprised that it had appealed to Felicity. A small table in front of it contained her tablet and a couple of books, and he could see the open door of the master bathroom behind the chair.

Oliver looked toward the bed again, smiling a little when he realized he couldn't see any part of Felicity except for one foot stuck out of the covers and dangling off the end of the bed. From the angle, it appeared she hadn't lied about moving around a lot in her sleep, and it looked as though she was stretched diagonally across it at the moment. He cleared his throat. "Felicity."

His only response was a sleepy grunt. He walked closer to the bed, and his attention was caught by the painting centered above her. It was large and spanned four canvasses of varying sizes, square on the end and more rectangular in the middle, and featured two trees on either end. Twisting brown branches void of leaves climbed the sides and tangled together gracefully top and center against a horizon in varying hues of orange. After a moment, he realized it was an abstract, the branches coalescing into an image of two lovers meeting and writhing in the middle. He was distracted by the tightening in his gut the painting elicited. It definitely wasn't the kind of reaction he wanted to have in Felicity's bedroom.

Looking back at the bed, Oliver focused again on the huddled figure beneath the comforter. He raised his voice. "Felicity, wake up."

She wiggled and sighed. "You usually don't talk so much in my dreams," she muttered, rolling over and appearing above the comforter in a tangled cloud of blonde hair. Pushing it away from her face, she smiled at him sleepily, still only half awake.

Both the sight of her lounging in the bed and the knowledge that he was a regular fixture in her dreams caused another tight feeling – only this time, it wasn't just in his gut. Her toes pointed outward as she stretched, and he noticed that her toenails were painted different colors. Briefly, he wondered if she was ticklish – wondered how she'd react if he were to trace his finger down the delicate arch. Oliver knew he was treading into dangerous territory with thoughts like that and sought to use humor as a distraction. "Really? What am I usually doing?"

The horrified expression on her face almost made him laugh. "I'm awake? I mean, of course I'm awake. That was just a joke."

Nodding, he pretended to accept her answer. "It's after 8:00, so we should get started soon. I made coffee, but I wasn't sure what you usually eat in the morning."

Her face was still red, but she made a valiant attempt to rally. "I'm getting up."

"Okay." Oliver left and went back to the kitchen. He didn't drink a lot of coffee, but he poured himself a cup and stood at the window while he waited for Felicity. She emerged from her room thirty minutes later dressed in jeans, a white button down shirt with a thin green pinstripe, and a lightweight blue blazer. She'd applied lighter makeup than usual, her lips a soft, glossy pink shade. She'd also eschewed her ever-present ponytail for a loose topknot held in place with two green butterfly hair pins, but she was wearing her glasses again.

"How long have you been up?" she asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

Oliver shrugged. "A couple of hours. I hated to wake you, but…"

"But we have things to do – I know." She took a sip of the coffee and sighed with pleasure. "What do you usually eat for breakfast?"

"Whatever the housekeeper prepares at home or protein shakes if I'm in a hurry."

She set her coffee cup down and began pulling things out of the refrigerator. "I'm a reasonably good cook when I have the time. And based on the ingredients I have… omelet or frittata?"

"Felicity, you don't have to cook breakfast," Oliver said. "We can stop and eat on the way to the foundry if you like."

"Or we can just eat here. I usually try to cook on Sundays when I'm home, so I have smoked ham, asparagus, parmesan, eggs, a loaf of French bread, and fruit. Personally, I vote frittata."

"Okay then. Frittata sounds good."

Oliver felt strangely domestic as he peeled and separated tangerines into sections and cut up a couple of green apples. He sliced the French bread, placing it on her dining room table along with the fruit and jam. Felicity emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later holding the pan with the frittata, which she placed on a woven mat designed to protect surfaces from hot dishes. She sliced into the frittata and placed a portion on first his plate and then her own.

"This is good," he commented, his second bite more enthusiastic than the first one.

"You sound surprised. Did you think I was about to poison you?"

"No, but you don't seem like the type who would enjoy cooking."

"Why? Because I like computers? I have other interests, you know."

"I can see that – like art," he replied, gesturing to the painting of the little girl on the wall. "I like that one."

Felicity smiled. "My mom painted that one."

He couldn't hide his surprise. "Your mother is an artist?"

She nodded, spearing a piece of apple with her fork. "Third generation, although I've brought that tradition to a screeching halt. I have an eye for color, but my brain is more suited to ones and zeroes than it is to painting or drawing. I tried when I was young, but I don't have it. I'm more like my dad, I guess. He does computer programming on a freelance basis from home, and my mom has a small art gallery upstate where she teaches art lessons and features up-and-coming artists."

"Your mom is talented," Oliver observed, looking at the painting again.

"She went to Paris on a scholarship when she was twenty, but she came home and married my dad the following year. They like living in a small town. I didn't, so I ended up in Starling City. It's only a two hour drive to go home. I usually make it up there about once a month."

"The painting above your bed – did your mother do that one as well?" He had that image of the lovers' embrace seared into his memory, and he had a feeling he'd be thinking about Felicity sleeping under the sensual painting for weeks to come.

Felicity blushed slightly at the reminder that he'd been in her bedroom earlier. "Oh. Yeah, that's hers. She helped me decorate after I moved in, and she was adamant that it belonged in the bedroom because it's for…" she paused, and he could see she was uncomfortable.

"It's a painting for lovers." The word seemed to hang in the air between them, electrically charged, and Oliver realized his mistake immediately. _Dangerous thoughts_, he reminded himself. "You're an only child?"

"Yes. I think that's why I'm okay with being alone most of the time. I learned to entertain myself because I never really made close friends at school. I skipped fourth grade and then skipped sixth; based on my test scores I could have gone straight to high school, but my parents were afraid it would alienate me from my classmates. They already thought I was a little strange since I spent so much time playing with computers."

Oliver remembered how cruel teenagers could be and thought her parents probably had the right idea. "You didn't have any friends in school?"

"A couple – one girl who lived down the street and my lab partner in chemistry. It's not like I was bullied though. I think I was generally well liked because I was helpful with homework and group assignments, but I was younger than the other students. They never asked me to go to parties or hang out at the mall, but they didn't make my life hell either."

But she had been lonely. He could read that on her face as plainly as if she'd spoken the words. She suddenly stood and began gathering their plates, and he could see that she was done sharing for the moment. He helped her clear the table and clean up before they left. They headed to the foundry in separate cars since Oliver knew he'd need to check in at home later.

At the foundry, Felicity booted up the computers and got to work. Oliver did some work upstairs in the club, going over the books and the orders for the following week. Tommy came in briefly, ignoring Oliver as was his habit these days. He sometimes wondered if he and Tommy would ever get past their current estrangement. The longer it went on, the more unlikely it seemed. He lived with that regret daily, but it was one of many.

When Diggle arrived, he and Oliver went downstairs to train. His routine varied, but he worked his body for long hours when possible, pushing past muscle strain and exhaustion; pushing himself as far as he could physically because it reminded him of what it took to survive. And despite his return to the life of luxury he'd formerly led, he needed that reminder – partly because of his work as the vigilante, but mostly because he knew he hadn't really left the island behind him.

Long after Diggle stopped, Oliver kept going. He trained with his hand-to-hand weapons as well as with his bow. He climbed the pegs he'd put up on the sides of the walls, and he traversed the metal beams on the ceiling. He meditated, but the physical exertion wasn't bringing him any clarity today because his thoughts were still too tied up in the blonde woman who'd been doing her best not to look at him since their arrival hours earlier. He usually felt her eyes on him as he trained, could almost sense the feminine appreciation behind her furtive glances. Yet all afternoon, she'd kept her gaze firmly trained on her computer unless someone spoke directly to her.

Oliver gave up on meditating and walked over to join Felicity at her desk. "What have you found?"

"Not much about last night yet," she replied. "Only two of the reports have been completed by the investigating detectives, so we probably won't see the others before tomorrow. But I ran the names of all the mugging victims in the park for the last six months against burglaries, robberies, and sexual assaults."

"And?" Oliver prompted, grabbing his towel to wipe the back of his neck before taking a drink of water.

"And Detective Lance was right. There's a connection," Felicity replied, clearly not happy with the information. "There have been more than two hundred reported assaults, muggings and purse snatchings in the park in the last six months. More than thirty of those victims have also reported break-ins at their homes in the weeks afterward, and five more women were assaulted as well as robbed."

"What about assaults or break-ins at neighbors' homes?" Oliver asked. "If some of those victims had security systems, their houses might not have been targeted."

"I'm running those numbers now," she said. "And I'm compiling a list of stolen items to check against the records of some of the seedier pawn shops I've hacked into."

"You think the pawn shops keep computer records of stolen items?" Diggle asked.

Felicity looked at him with a raised brow. "You'd be surprised what people keep on their computers, Digg. They think if they have a password then they're protected from prying eyes like mine, but that is a very bad assumption to make – especially if you're a petty criminal."

Oliver stood over her, watching her type quickly and flip between screens as she checked the progress of the various programs she was running. She studiously ignored him for several minutes before turning to look at him. "Do you need something or are you just hoping that your manly presence will speed things along? Because this is going to take a while, and I work better when no one's hovering and watching over my shoulder."

When he didn't move, she continued, "Just so we're clear, you're hovering, and I don't like it. That's your space over there and this is mine. I don't hover over you when you're meditating or climbing the walls, so…" she made a dismissive gesture with her hand.

Oliver crossed his arms, amused. "Is that your way of kicking me out? Because if it is, I should remind you that this is _all_ my space."

"Uh-uh." She shook her head. "When you're ready to go back to your vintage setup and hack your own files with the archaic method you had going a few months ago, it will be _your_ space again. Until then? Mine, mine and mine." She pointed to each monitor for emphasis.

"Fine," he relented. "I'll check in at home and get lunch while I'm out."

"Pizza," she said, turning back to the monitors. "With extra pepperoni and peppers, no mushrooms. And the cheesy breadsticks."

"Your diet is not very healthy when you're working," he said as he pulled his T-shirt over his head.

"I'm young enough to get away with it though."

"True. You're only twenty-two." And she'd been barely that when he'd first met her, a fact that had surprised him given how much the IT department at Queen Consolidated relied on her.

Her head whipped around. "How do you know that?"

"Because you work for my company, and I checked your personnel file before I approached you to help me. You'll be twenty-three in October, and you went to work for Queen Consolidated right after graduating from university – undergrad at Starling University and Master's degree from the distance learning branch of UCLA located here in the city. Impressive," he commented.

Based on her file and Walter's recommendation, he'd had a gut feeling about approaching Felicity to help him, and he'd certainly been proven correct. More and more lately, he wondered how he would feel after they found Walter and she went back to her previous life – the one that didn't include either Starling City's vigilante or Oliver Queen. He should want that for her; a return to the simpler and much safer life she'd abandoned the day he crawled, bleeding, into the backseat of her car. But the truth was he couldn't really imagine the team without her anymore.

Felicity wrinkled her nose, watching as he put away the weapons he'd been using earlier. "You know, I've shown remarkable restraint since I've known you. I could've hacked all your records the minute you started coming to me with your lame cover stories, and I didn't." At Oliver's raised brow, she rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine – I Googled you. And while your former life of debauchery made for some interesting bedtime reading, I didn't go looking for the _really_ personal stuff. But if you're reading my personnel file…" she left the statement dangling.

"You could track down all the dirt on me in cyber space," Oliver agreed. "Or you could just ask."

She looked intrigued by that idea. "If I asked, would you answer?"

"Depends on the question," he said. "But I've been asking you a lot of questions lately. I suppose I owe you some answers to a few of your own." He grabbed his jacket and headed up the stairs.

"I'm holding you to that!"

Oliver was smiling again as he left the foundry. It was something he did more often when Felicity was around.

**A/N: Ok, this is the only part I've had time to edit, but I'll try to finish editing the second part of this chapter and get it up by the weekend. In the first part, I was trying to nail down Felicity's character in my head because we don't know much about her. She's kind of a contradiction on the show, and I like that about her. She seems like she'd have varied interests. Also, a big thank you to all my reviewers. I think I replied to everyone at least once – I made a list, so if I missed you, please know it wasn't intentional. I appreciate the feedback more than I can say.**

**Up Next: More Olicity domesticity, Team Arrow rounds up the thieves, Felicity has a bad date and gets toasted on the Verdant house special, and we finally meet Tyler (next chapter, I swear!) I'll try to edit the rest and get it up this weekend. Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

When Oliver returned a couple of hours later bearing the promised pizza, Felicity was typing furiously while tapping her foot along to whatever she was listening to through her earphones. He set the pizza down on the desk beside her and she looked up, jerking her earphones out. "Finally. I'm starving."

"What are you listening to?"

"A little bit of everything," she responded as she grabbed a couple of the plates they kept downstairs. "Some B.O.B., Flo Rida, Paramore, Florence + The Machine, Rihanna – I like high energy when I'm working on a problem or I'm researching something. In the evenings, my playlist is more indie artist and singer/songwriter heavy. I'll play some of my favorites for you when we get home later."

Oliver stilled at those words and looked at Felicity. He could see that she was already furiously backtracking in her head.

"I didn't mean that to sound so domestically blissful," she hurriedly explained, looking somewhat mortified. "I mean when we get to _my_ home, not _our_ home. Obviously."

"I knew what you meant," he said. "You don't have to worry that you're stepping in it around me, Felicity. And for what it's worth, I feel at home in your apartment – more so than at the manor."

Felicity handed him a plate with a raised brow. "I'm sure Queen Manor has better… everything. I mean, I've never been there, but I've seen photos in home décor magazines. It's practically a landmark in this state."

"It's beautiful," he agreed. "But that doesn't make it a home. There are a lot of memories there, and not all of them are good."

"But a lot of them _are_ good, right? Maybe you just need to let go of the bad and focus on the good things for a change. And not just when it comes to your home."

Oliver kept turning Felicity's words over and over in his head for the rest of the afternoon. For her it was that simple; think about what was good in his life and let go of the bad. Her optimism, her faith that he was better than he thought he was – it had become a tangible presence in his life that he was coming to depend on more than he was comfortable with.

While Felicity remained occupied with the various searches she was running, Oliver went upstairs to handle some paperwork for the club. He was almost finished when Diggle came in.

"So how's your business venture?" Diggle asked, nodding towards the stacks of receipts and orders on Oliver's desk.

"Thriving," Oliver replied. "We should be in the black by next month."

"Well, never underestimate bored, white trust-funders searching for new ways to get a thrill," Diggle commented with a shake of his head. "Felicity said she has something to show us before we head out."

Oliver stood and followed Diggle out of his office before locking up. As they headed down the stairs, he said, "I'm going to patrol around the park tonight and see if I can catch any of the muggers in action. Can you stay with Felicity until I get back?"

"I can stay the night with her if that's easier."

It would be easier. But Oliver realized that he wanted to go back to Felicity's apartment. "No. I can stay with her. I'll be gone for a couple of hours after 9:00. A lot of people have been hit between 9:00 and 10:00 when they cut through the park on their way to public parking garages. If I see one of the muggers, I'll follow him – recon only tonight."

Diggle nodded. "Okay." He waited until Oliver punched in the code to enter the basement. "Oliver, be careful."

"I'm always careful," Oliver replied, glancing over at his friend curiously.

"And I'm not talking about the recon mission."

Diggle didn't elaborate, but his meaning was clear. He was talking about Felicity. Oliver chose to ignore the implication, and the other man wisely decided to drop it for the moment. When they joined Felicity, she had two mug shots pulled up on her monitors.

"I don't know why I didn't think of this before, but we have a couple of security cameras in my building," she said. "They're new, so I guess that's why it didn't immediately occur to me. So I hacked the digital files stored on the building manager's computer and at first, no luck. They were all careful to keep their faces turned away from the cameras. But when Anna's attacker ran from her apartment, he wasn't so careful." She gestured to an image on her screen.

Oliver leaned in to get a closer look at the man on Felicity's screen. "Name?"

"This lovely gentleman is Rodolpho Felix Campos, aka Lil' Roddy, and his rap sheet is… scary. He's a known leader of the Crazy Riders and last served time for robbery and attempted rape. He's been out for about six months. Now what's interesting is this guy." Felicity pointed to the second mug shot, this time of a Caucasian male in his mid-twenties.

Oliver's brows flew up. "Michael Brantley?"

"Who's Michael Brantley?" Diggle asked.

"He used to be a bored trust-funder like me," Oliver said. "He got into his fair share of trouble, but he was at Harvard when I left on the Queen's Gambit."

"His father's investment firm went belly-up during the recession," Felicity explained. "With the family fortune gone, Michael left Harvard and ended up involved with the criminal element of Starling City – namely drugs. He was busted for dealing out of some local clubs but the judge was fairly lenient given his family history. He only spent nine months behind bars, but it was long enough for him to meet Campos. He's been linked to the Crazy Riders since his release, but he's never been formally charged with anything."

"Is he on camera?" Oliver asked.

"Here." She pointed to another image from the security footage. "It's not clear enough for the police to make an arrest, but this guy matches Brantley's height, build and hair color. One of the detectives also noted in his report that he suspects Brantley was there."

"It's a place to start," Oliver told her. "Good work."

She blushed, pushing her glasses up. "Thanks."

Oliver couldn't help smiling as she turned back to her monitors. While she finished up, he got his equipment ready for patrol that night, sharpening a few arrows and tightening his bow string. When everything was ready, he and Diggle got in some more sparring practice.

Around 5:00, Felicity stood up and stretched, shaking out her hands. "That's pretty much all I can do for now. I've narrowed down at least one pawn shop I think is receiving stolen goods, but you'll need to check it out to be certain."

He nodded, grabbing his towel and water from the table. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, let me just shut everything down."

Oliver followed Felicity back to her apartment. When they arrived, he noted that she wasn't as talkative as usual. She had, in fact, been less talkative than usual throughout the day. "Are you okay?"

Felicity glanced up as she unlocked her door. "Okay as in…?"

"You've been quiet today. And you were quiet at lunch yesterday."

"Lunch was weird," she said, tossing her keys and purse on the coffee table. "I guess I was just… focused today. In case you couldn't tell, I really want to catch these creeps."

"We will," he promised. He followed her into the kitchen as she began poking around in her refrigerator. "Why is having lunch with me weird?"

"It wasn't just you, though. It was your mother and Lindsay, and it was just strange."

"My mother liked you," he commented, leaning against the counter.

Felicity closed the refrigerator door and opened the freezer. "Really?"

"She thinks we're having a thing."

She straightened so fast she bumped her head on the door. "Ow." Rubbing her head, she turned to face him with a wide-eyed expression. "A thing? Like a sex thing? Did you tell her that we are definitely _not_ having a sex thing of any kind?"

Oliver kept his expression contained. "Actually, I told her we were."

"What? Why? Why would you do that? She's my boss – kind of. I mean, I don't see her that often, but she's still my boss. And did she actually believe you?"

He grinned. "Breathe, Felicity. I told her we're friends."

She glared at him. "I think I liked you better back when you had no sense of humor."

"I guess you bring out that side of me. Anyway, I'm not sure she believed me, especially since I'm staying with you right now."

"Great. She's going to think I'm trying to sleep my way to the top or something." She closed the freezer door and opened up a drawer to pull out a stack of delivery menus.

"I seriously doubt that since your work speaks for itself and you've been keeping our friendship under the radar."

"Not totally under the radar," she said, flipping through the menus. "A few people noticed the way you kept popping up at work and asking me to help you with things. My supervisor discourages office visits that aren't strictly work related, but it was you so there wasn't much he could say. Any preferences for dinner?"

Oliver took the menus and glanced through them. "How about Uptown? They have an amazing seafood and filet platter with herb steamed vegetables, chowder and small appetizers."

"Fancy," she replied, raising a brow. "Do they even deliver?"

Slipping his phone out of his pocket, he answered, "They do for me."

After their food was delivered, Felicity and Oliver spread their meal out on her coffee table and sat on the floor to eat, picking and sharing from the various containers as they listened to music.

"I like this one," Oliver said of the song that was playing. "It wouldn't have been my preference before the island, but there's something about it that appeals to me now."

"It's called 'The One That Got Away' - it's by The Civil Wars," she told him, spearing a bite of grilled salmon. "You know, you do that a lot… talk about things in a pre-island and post-island sense."

"It's like a line," he said slowly without looking at her. He focused on the painting of the little blonde girl walking down the tree lined path. "In my mind, that's how I process things now."

"Is that healthy?" Her voice was tentative, as if she were afraid he was going to shut her down for venturing the topic.

Oliver shrugged. "Probably not. But it helps me survive."

Felicity followed his gaze to the painting. "My mom painted that for me when I was in high school. See that hint of light at the end of the path?"

When he'd first looked at the painting, he saw only the small girl, the seemingly endless path, and the shadows cast by the tall trees. But now he could see it – the faint yellow glow piercing the darkness. "I see it."

"I was a little lonely back then. I was younger than the other kids, and it kind of seemed like it was never going to be over. I wanted to skip ahead and finish even earlier, so my mom painted this to remind me that even if you're walking rather than running, the light will still be there, and things can always improve."

"Are you happy that you stuck it out rather than skipping ahead?" There was so much about her that he still didn't know, and it was one of the reasons he liked being in her space. Everything here made up the puzzle that was Felicity, and the painting was yet another piece that was personal and unique to her.

"Now I am. I met Lindsay in college, and even though she's a couple of years older than me, and we're completely different, we just sort of clicked. I got an internship with Queen Consolidated during my last year, and they offered to pay for my grad studies if I continued my internship and agreed to come work for them full time when I was finished, which was last year."

"Mom was the one who suggested that recruiting method," Oliver said with a smile. "I'm glad it worked."

"Me too. I like working at your company, and if I hadn't taken the job, we wouldn't have met." She bit her lip before continuing. "I like working with you, too."

Oliver pulled his eyes back up to meet hers, and a heavy silence fell as the playlist ended. He knew he should probably regret dragging Felicity into his world. What they were doing was dangerous, and he had enemies who wouldn't hesitate to use her against him. Enemies like Helena. It had only taken seconds for Helena to recognize Felicity's value, and she'd struck him at his weakest point to get what she wanted.

It was a worry that had been festering ever since the night he'd found Felicity tied up under her desk, one that probably wouldn't go away any time soon. Still, he couldn't be sorry that he'd gone to her for help the night he was shot. Like Diggle, she was one more person who reminded him that the Hood didn't have to consume him, that he could hold onto the pieces of himself he'd found since returning from the island, and that was something he realized now that he needed.

A knock at the door jolted him back to the present. He looked away from her and stood. "That's probably Digg."

Felicity quietly began clearing up the containers and Oliver went to the door to let Diggle in.

By the time Oliver returned to Felicity's apartment, it was almost midnight. He let himself in with his key to find Diggle dozing on the sofa. When Oliver turned back after resetting the alarm, his friend's eyes were open.

Diggle sat up and stretched. "Any luck?"

"A kid snatched a woman's purse, and I followed him to the Glades. He took the money out of her wallet and turned everything else over to a guy he met near the old community center. When I followed that guy, he led me straight to Campos. They've got a lot of electronics stacked up in a trailer behind one of the abandoned buildings near the river."

"Stuff they're waiting to fence," Diggle speculated. "And if they're keeping stolen goods there, it's probably where they spend most of their time. When do you want to hit them?"

"My guess is that Lance already has an APB out for Campos since he's on the video feed. I'd like to go again tomorrow night, get a feel for their routine, see who's coming and going. Then I can decide how to handle them."

After Diggle left, Oliver showered in the guest bathroom and put on sweatpants and a T-shirt. He tossed his towel into a laundry basket in the small laundry room off the kitchen and headed for the couch, only to pause and turn back. He walked down the hall to check on Felicity. Her door was cracked, and he eased it open carefully. The room was dark, but a small nightlight gave off a soft glow not unlike the painting they'd discussed earlier. He could see that she was sleeping soundly, again with one foot stuck outside her comforter.

He stood there for a few minutes, watching her sleep, listening to the sound of her breathing. It was something he'd done when he and Laurel were together as well. Only then it had been anxiety keeping him awake as he tried to be what Laurel wanted him to be. Her talk of apartments and moving in together had spooked him; he still wasn't entirely sure why because he knew he had loved her. Moving in together would have been the next logical step.

Being in Felicity's apartment, preparing food together – it was all very domestic in a way that would have sent him running before the island. He kept waiting to feel that same restlessness again, only he didn't. Instead, he felt almost peaceful.

He pulled the door closed and walked quietly back to the living room.

The peace didn't last long.

* * *

Oliver entered the basement of Verdant still feeling the effects of the adrenaline that had pushed him through his fight. It had been two days since Felicity had identified two of the perpetrators from the break-ins at her apartment. After tailing members of Campos' gang and realizing they were planning another rash of break-ins, Oliver had decided to step in.

The plan had been fairly simple – he and Diggle would go in and round them up, leaving the audio and video surveillance from the day before as a gift to the local cops. The surveillance, combined with all the stolen goods on site, would be enough to send them all to jail. He'd even promised Felicity that he would only arrow the bad guys in self-defense, and had instead used the new taser arrows that she'd been tinkering with for the last few weeks.

Everything had gone according to plan. The taser arrows had been fairly effective. While they still weren't strong enough to deliver a knock out charge, they had incapacitated Campos' men long enough for Oliver and Diggle to take them out with a few well-placed blows.

And then he'd seen it – a bulletin board full of driver's licenses. Upon closer inspection Oliver saw that the driver's licenses all belonged to women, and Oliver had suddenly realized what it was about. Some fraternities he'd belonged to in the past had bang boards full of photos of women they'd slept with. They'd even developed a rating scale.

Oliver knew without even questioning the gang leaders that these were driver's licenses of women they had either attacked or were planning to attack. And when he'd seen Felicity's driver's license up on the board with all the rest, anger raged through him in a way he couldn't control. He'd snatched her license off the board and turned back to Campos, forcing him against the wall, demanding an explanation. Oliver saw it then – the soulless expression in Campos's eyes, the utter lack of remorse. He knew that Campos would likely get out of prison again. He'd continue to hurt people – women like Felicity - and he would never care. So Oliver killed him.

And now he had to face Felicity, who didn't look happy.

"What happened to the 'no killing' rule?" she asked. "I spent weeks on those taser arrows just so you wouldn't have to fatally arrow the bad guys anymore."

"One – I broke his neck, I didn't arrow him," he growled out, tossing his equipment on the table. "And two – I did what I felt was necessary and I don't explain myself to you, Felicity."

"Your scare tactics don't work on me," she shot back. "Diggle reported on the com device that you had all of them subdued. I don't understand why you killed him."

Oliver ignored her. He was still worked up, and he didn't think he had it in him to explain it to her in a way she could understand because Felicity was all about hope. Hope that the world could be better, and hope that criminals could be rehabilitated if given a second chance. Hope that Oliver wasn't as broken as he knew he undoubtedly was.

When Oliver didn't answer her, Felicity turned to Diggle. "What happened?"

Oliver could feel Diggle's eyes on him and waited for his friend to tell her what he'd heard and seen.

"Oliver did what was necessary." Diggle joined him at the table, and Oliver was surprised by the expression on his friend's face. Not only did Diggle understand, apparently he wasn't going to condemn his actions.

"So this is how it's going to be," Felicity finally said. "You close ranks when you feel like the tech girl doesn't get it, right? That's fine. I'm going home and Oliver, I'll put your bag by the door. You can pick it up on your way back to the manor tonight." She grabbed her jacket and bag and left without another word.

"She's stronger than you think she is, Oliver. Maybe you should just tell her what kind of man Campos really was."

"Campos was pure evil, and hurting those women was a game to him," Oliver replied. "How do you explain that kind of evil to someone who sees the good in everyone? She thinks I'm some kind of hero, for God's sake."

"I think she understands more than you give her credit for Oliver. You tend to put the women in your life on some kind of pedestal, and Felicity's no exception. You've painted her into a corner for good and yourself into one for bad, and it doesn't work that way, man. And I know you don't like to explain yourself, but I think you're going to have to find a way around that where she's concerned. She's not going to let you shut her out without a protest."

After Diggle left, Oliver continued to think about that. He worked off some of his residual aggression on the punching bag in the corner, working up a sweat until he felt calmer. Then he showered in the upstairs bathroom and made the drive back to Felicity's apartment.

The living room was dark when he arrived, lit only by the dim bulb of the table lamp in the corner. Oliver saw his bag by the door but he ignored it, making his way through the dark apartment to Felicity's bedroom. He turned the knob and the door swung open silently to reveal Felicity sitting up in her bed, a table lamp providing just enough light for her to read by.

She looked up from her tablet. "Your bag is by the door, Oliver. You didn't want to talk earlier, and I don't feel like talking now."

Clearly, she was pissed. Oliver guessed he couldn't really blame her. "This is why I killed him." He pulled her driver's license from his pocket and handed it to her as he sat on the edge of her bed.

Felicity's brow wrinkled in confusion. "What does my driver's license have to do with killing Campos?"

"They had a bulletin board set up full of women's driver's licenses. It's similar to a bang board, I guess – it used to be a fraternity thing where boys put up photos of girls they'd slept with, sometimes rating them. Campos was weeding through the driver's licenses and putting up the ones he'd either raped or was planning to go after in the future." There was a bitter taste in his mouth as he spoke the words. He kept his eyes trained on Felicity and saw the moment that she understood what he was saying.

"Oh." She looked down at her driver's license and then dropped it in distaste. "We knew that he was probably targeting women based on the muggings, but that's… disgusting."

"The only thing that probably saved you was the security system we had installed," Oliver continued. "And the idea that he could have hurt you like that…"

"Okay, I get it. But there was enough evidence to send him back to prison, Oliver. The whole point of me working on those taser arrows was to give you another option for taking down the bad guys because I don't want more deaths on your conscience."

Oliver sighed. "Felicity, I know you don't like to hear this because you think I'm some kind of hero, but I've killed people in the past, and I'll probably kill more people in the future. It's going to be necessary sometimes. With Campos, you have to believe me when I tell you that there was an evil inside him that wasn't going to go away after a few more years in prison. There would have come a time when he had a choice to make, and he would have chosen to hurt people again. I couldn't allow that."

Felicity reached out and took his hand. "You've killed people but you're not a killer, Oliver. And I guess you're not a hero yet, but you will be. Right now you're more like the anti-hero. Like Dexter – you're doing morally questionable things for a greater good that you believe in." When she saw Oliver's inquisitive expression, she explained, "He's a TV character who works for the police department as a blood splatter analyst and he's also a serial killer who only hunts other killers when the police didn't have enough evidence to arrest them. You know, that show used to scare the crap out of me, but I bet I could watch it at night now. Maybe early night – not at bedtime or anything."

Oliver smiled at her little ramble. "When I first washed up on the island, I couldn't even kill an animal for food. I was hungry, and I wanted to do it, but I just couldn't. That was my first lesson in survival; kill or be the one to die. Later it was kill or be killed." He could see that Felicity was surprised he'd brought up the island since he'd never spoken about it before. He didn't talk about it to anyone, and he hated it when people asked questions that he wasn't sure how to answer.

"I knew you weren't alone there," she said after a moment of silence. "The scars, and the tattoos, you know. Did…?" She broke off, apparently thinking better of her question.

"It's okay, Felicity."

She gnawed her lip, and Oliver wondered if she realized she was stroking her thumb along the back of his hand. "Did anyone else make it to the island with you?"

Oliver concentrated on her hand and the motion of her thumb. He was surprised by how much it calmed him. "Laurel's sister never even made it to the life raft. I tried to get to her, but it was impossible. My father and the captain pulled me into the raft, and we waited for rescue. But we were running out of supplies and my father made a decision. He killed the captain and then himself to give me a chance to survive – a chance to right his wrongs. That's why I have to do this. Because if I don't, his sacrifice means nothing."

"Oh God – Oliver." Felicity stopped speaking abruptly. It was the first time he'd ever seen her speechless.

It was one of the reasons Oliver didn't want to talk about the island with anyone after he returned. He was already a curiosity to many of his former friends and even to his family to some extent. They looked at him with pity. But when he met Felicity's eyes, he didn't see pity. He saw understanding.

Later he couldn't be sure why he did what he did next. He only knew that in the moment, it felt right and so he didn't fight it.

Oliver lifted his hand to her cheek, leaning forward until their lips met. The kiss was more exploratory than passionate, and it only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to shift the dynamic between them in a way he wasn't sure he was going to be able to brush off.

Felicity clearly recognized that as well. "Why did you do that?"

He didn't know how to answer that, so he gave the only answer he could. "Because we've both been wondering about it, haven't we?"

Apparently that was the wrong answer because her gaze slid away from his. "It's late – you should go."

_Probably a good idea_, he thought. He didn't know what else to say to her anyway. Oliver left her bedroom and closed the door behind him, hoping he hadn't just made a mistake that couldn't be fixed.

**A/N: It's been a while since I updated – sorry about that. And I'm ending the chapter here because it was running kind of long due to all the conversation bits I added while editing. However, Felicity's drunk ramblings at Verdant are up next, followed by the appearance of Tyler (finally, I promise.) My goal is to get the next part up this weekend, Internet connection permitting. I'm living in the Middle East at the moment, and this is seriously the worst Internet connection I've ever had in my life.**

**Also, I'm behind on responding to last chapter's reviews, so I just want to say a big 'Thank You' to everyone who has reviewed, followed and favorite the story. I'll try to get caught up soon, but I want you to know I truly appreciate the great response this story has had. I hope you enjoy the update!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Felicity had certainly had bad days before – bad days, bad weeks, an occasional bad month, and even a difficult year or two. Even combined, they were nothing in comparison to the week – actually, the _month_ - she was having. And her entire day had been hell since the moment she woke up.

First she was mugged, resulting in her sprained ankle followed by self-defense lessons with both Diggle and Oliver. Next her apartment building was targeted by a known sex offender and his gang of thieves, and Oliver decided to move in with her. Now that threat was gone because Campos was dead. And he was dead because Oliver had killed him in order to protect her.

She didn't know how she should feel about that. Should she be happy that he was dead? She couldn't deny she felt safer given what Oliver had told her, but she wasn't happy because she hated being the reason Oliver felt it was necessary to kill someone.

On top of all that, she'd been dating again. She'd also been dealing with her hopeless attraction to Oliver. And just when she was beginning to think she had a handle on her not so little crush, he kissed her.

She'd lain awake for hours last night wondering what had possessed him to do it. He said they had both wondered about it, and she couldn't deny _she_ had thought about it before. She was, however, surprised to learn he'd ever thought of her that way. Felicity had turned both the kiss and his words over and over in her head the night before. As far as she was concerned, it boiled down to three things – proximity, availability and curiosity.

Since McKenna's departure from Star City, Oliver had pulled away from social activities. He trained, he worked, and he spent time with his family. He didn't date, and as far as she knew, there were no women he'd been seeing on even a casual basis. He'd been more social with both her and Diggle lately, but since their interactions always took place in what she considered a work environment, she hadn't given it much thought.

She was thinking about it now, though, and the facts were simple. She was single and so was he. They were healthy adults who'd been spending a lot of time together. Simply put, proximity and availability led to curiosity. For her it might be a bit more complex than that, but she didn't think that was the case with Oliver.

It wasn't surprising that she'd slept so badly, tossing and turning until her alarm blared just as she was finally drifting off. Then at work she'd had to train a new guy whose social skills were so lacking that she knew he'd end up being worthless as an IT liaison to other departments. It wasn't technically her job to deal with small computer issues, but she was the one ultimately called when department heads or executives didn't understand one of her co-workers. She'd left work in a bad mood that had only gotten worse after what she would describe as the date from hell. In fact, all of her dates lately had been nothing but bust after bust – either she wasn't into them or they weren't that into her.

Gerwin had just confused her since he kept asking her out while showing only a lukewarm interest in her. Before Gerwin there had been Scott, a single dad who'd clearly been looking for a new wife and mommy for his two-year-old twin boys. They both realized quickly that wasn't going to work when he'd brought the twins on their date and one of them proceeded to throw up on her, triggering her own gag reflex.

This week she'd finally met Mike, an officer with the Starling City Police Department. On paper he'd looked pretty damn good. A stint in the army had led to him completing his degree in criminal justice and joining the police department with an eye on making detective later. He was twenty-eight, never married, and no children – essentially free and clear, something she'd discovered was hard to find these days. She'd ditched one of her dates early on after realizing he had four kids with three different women, only one of whom he'd actually married.

Her coffee date with Mike had gone so well that she'd decided to follow up with dinner. She'd almost cancelled considering the way her day had been on a downhill slide, but then she'd thought that a night out might cheer her up and make her forget things like Oliver and the unresolved sexual tension that was plaguing her. She should have gone with her first instinct.

Felicity pulled into the parking lot of Verdant and parked in the back. She entered through the employees' entrance and headed straight for the basement. It was Thursday night – Ladies' Night at Verdant, and the place was packed. She assumed that Oliver would be busy with managerial duties, and she was hoping to finish up her work that evening without another run-in. She'd have to face him eventually, but she wasn't ready for that yet.

When she walked down the stairs, she saw that instead of being upstairs in the club, Oliver was training in all his shirtless, sweaty glory. He was on the salmon ladder, something that had held her mesmerized attention more than once on nights just like this. Not in the mood, she turned on her heel and marched back up the stairs and headed straight for the bar.

Sliding onto an empty stool, she got the bartender's attention and ordered one of the house specials she'd taste tested the previous weekend. Sipping the drink, Felicity pulled out her phone and texted Lindsay.

_I am so over dating._

Her friend was covering a benefit in Coast City, so she probably wouldn't get the message until later. But she knew that Lindsay would call her as soon as she could; meanwhile, there was alcohol. She drained her glass and slid it across the bar.

"Do you have something stronger?"

Within minutes, the bartender slid another glass in front of her. The color was also green, but one sip was enough to tell her it wasn't the ladies' night special. "What is it?"

"Tokyo Tea," the bartender replied. "Stronger but still smooth if you mix it right. Hey, don't you work for the boss? I've seen you here before."

Felicity took another sip. "I designed the website for the club and set up the Internet router here. I'm Felicity."

"Dave," the bartender replied. "Let me know when you need another one."

Felicity was on her second Tokyo Tea when she felt a hand on her leg. "Hey beautiful. Can I buy you a drink?"

She rolled her eyes and held up her glass as she pushed his hand away. "Not interested."

His hand was back almost immediately. "Hey, I'm a nice guy. You don't have to be rude."

_Seriously?_ "Yeah because nice guys feel a girl up before getting her name," she retorted, shoving his hand off. When he grabbed her arm, she jerked back. And then he was off the bar stool and looking up at her from the floor, a surprised expression on his face.

A dark haired woman stood over him, arms crossed. "When a girl says she's not interested, you should move on Trey."

The guy's face twisted into a sneer. He stood up and went for the brunette, only to find himself in the floor again. "I can do this all night," the woman said with a smile. "Or you can get up and leave on your own before the bouncers throw you out."

Trey stood up and straightened his jacket. "You always were a bitch. Some things don't change."

"Since you were always a handsy little perv, I guess that's true," the brunette replied. "The door is that way."

Felicity saw Dave signaling to someone across the room, and suddenly Tommy was there. "Problem?"

Felicity's rescuer nodded to Trey. "New victim, same old tricks." She gestured to Felicity, and Tommy's eyes widened in surprise.

"Felicity?"

Felicity waved, beginning to feel a little self-conscious. She watched as Tommy and one of the bouncers herded Trey towards the exit before turning back to the dark haired woman. "Thanks. You're really good at knocking a guy on his ass, by the way."

The woman slid onto the stool beside Felicity. "My dad's a cop, so I learned early. You know Tommy?"

"Yeah. Oliver – Mr. Queen - hired me to set up the Internet router here and design the website for the club. I'm Felicity."

The other woman held out her hand. "Laurel. Nice to meet you."

Felicity shook her hand and said, "I should buy you a drink for getting rid of that jerk. How do you know him anyway?"

"We used to have mutual friends who ran in the same circles," Laurel replied. "He was always a douche. And if you're serious about the drink, I'll have one of the specials while I'm waiting for my boyfriend. Is that what you have?"

Felicity shook her head. "Tokyo Tea – I needed something stronger. It's been a bad week." She got Dave's attention and ordered their drinks. She was starting to feel pleasantly buzzed and more relaxed than she'd felt in a long time. "Actually, it's been a bad month."

"I've had a few of those. If you think it will help, feel free to vent," Laurel said, accepting her drink from Dave.

"I don't even know where to start." Felicity took a drink. "Have you ever had a friend that you were attracted to but it was totally one sided?"

"Haven't we all?"

"And I don't date much because of my work, and the fact that sometimes I feel like I've cornered the market on socially awkward," Felicity continued. "And then there's my friend, and he's – wow – and I thought I should probably get back out there and do something about my dry spell. But dating is seriously hard work – and depressing and frustrating and lately, not much fun at all. And isn't that supposed to be the point of dating? To have fun? At this point, I'd settle for a fling."

"I did that – the fling thing," Laurel told her. "Same reasons, really – my work takes up so much time that I didn't have time for conventional dating. And I had this friend who was available."

"How did that work out?"

"Surprisingly well. We're living together now." Laurel eyed Felicity as she sipped her drink. "So your bad month is due to a series of bad dates?"

"That, and I was mugged last month. Then the thieves broke into my building and attacked one of my neighbors, and it probably would have been me except that my friend insisted on installing a security system after I was mugged."

"Sounds like a good friend," the other woman pointed out. "Is this the same friend who…?"

Felicity nodded. "But it's not like that. Or at least it wasn't until this week. It's still not, really. I blame it on proximity, availability, and curiosity." Her head was starting to feel a little muddled, and she wondered if that made sense. Judging by the other woman's confused expression, she guessed not. "He kissed me last night. But he works a lot too, and he recently broke up with someone and I'm basically the only girl who's been around, so…"

"Proximity, availability and curiosity," Laurel answered. "So why not just satisfy the curiosity?"

Felicity reached for the new drink Dave put in front of her. He was very in tune with her alcohol needs – she reminded herself to tip him well. "Because the fallout would be big – not just big. Ginormous. Technically he's my boss, and I like my job." _Both of them_, she thought, though she couldn't say that. "So I started dating again, and it has been a disaster."

"What's been a disaster?" Tommy appeared at Laurel's elbow.

"Felicity's dating life," Laurel replied. She leaned up and kissed him. "So did Trey go quietly?"

"More or less – he's on the persona non grata list now." Tommy glanced at Felicity a bit warily.

Felicity knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it. Because she'd just realized that Laurel was _the_ Laurel – Oliver's ex and Tommy's girlfriend. _That_ Laurel. And she'd just been sitting here talking about how she was lusting after Oliver. _Shit._

_Okay, calm down,_ she told herself. _It's not like you named him. You said he was a friend. A friend who's technically your boss. Shit. _She took a large gulp of her drink. She was going to need a lot more alcohol.

* * *

Oliver was not in the mood to play host to Verdant's crowd that night. Felicity had failed to show up, leading him to wonder if it was because of what had happened between them. He didn't have the best track record with women, but his relationship with Felicity was important to him, and the idea that his actions might have messed that up bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

He circled the edge of the bar and stopped when he heard Felicity's voice. She was sitting on a bar stool beside Laurel and Tommy, and she was talking. A lot.

"So there was the guy looking for a mommy more than a girlfriend, and since I don't handle bodily fluids well, that was over before it got started. Who brings their kids on a first date? Then Gerwin, who apparently had no interest in me as a female – four dates and nothing. And that leads us to tonight and Mike, one of Starling City's finest. I really thought it was going well until he told me that he had a confession to make about his weekend job. Something about the way he said it just made me think male stripper because he was kind of nervous."

Laurel leaned in. "Wait – is this Mike Shannon? Please tell me he's not a stripper."

"No – it's so much worse than that. He's an Elvis impersonator." Felicity chugged the remains of her drink and signaled for another one.

Oliver figured she'd probably already had one too many. Tommy obviously thought so too because he caught Dave's eye and made a gesture indicating he should go light on the alcohol.

Laurel laughed. "Are you serious?"

"Is there even a market for that? I mean, this isn't Vegas," Tommy commented in amusement.

"Exactly what I asked him after my stunned silence," Felicity replied. "But he works surrounding cities too, and he says the money is good. He's saving for a house – admirable, I know. But what am I supposed to tell people? I don't think I can say 'My boyfriend is a part time Elvis impersonator' with a straight face. Although my aunt would probably love it since her house has more Elvis memorabilia than Graceland."

"You just… have to hang in there," Laurel said encouragingly. Her expression was both amused and sympathetic.

"My best friend says the same thing but seriously – the only person who's gotten to third base with me in the last couple of years is my gynecologist. It's sad."

Tommy's brows flew up at that, and Laurel raised a hand to cover her mouth, disguising her laugh as a cough.

Oliver figured it was a good time to interrupt. "Felicity?"

Felicity jumped, and then her back stiffened as she turned carefully to look at him, weaving slightly on her stool. "I really wish you would stop sneaking up on me like that."

He picked up her glass and took a sip. Tokyo Tea. He looked at Dave. "How many of these has she had?"

Felicity snatched her glass back. "That's my business, not yours. And I've had a bad day."

"I heard," he said, raising a brow. "Elvis impersonator, huh? Felicity, I really think you need to reconsider online dating. I don't think it's safe."

"If there was such a thing as death by embarrassment, you'd have a point. He sang tonight – in the restaurant. The people sitting in the booth behind us heard him say he was an Elvis impersonator and asked about hiring him for a birthday party. It was like an impromptu audition." Felicity drained the glass. "My personal life sucks beyond the telling of it right now. But at least I have my career."

"Your job at Queen Industries is safe," he reassured her. "But I think I should get you home."

"I can get home," she protested, standing up. She immediately sat again, holding the edge of the bar. "Or maybe not."

"Where are your keys?" Oliver asked.

Felicity dug around in her purse, coming up empty. "In my car?"

Oliver shook his head. "It's okay – I have spares to your car and your apartment." He saw that Laurel was staring at them, a look of dawning comprehension on her face.

"So you two are…"

"We're friends," Felicity hurried to explain. She pulled out her wallet but Oliver stopped her.

"You don't have to pay here."

"Oh – you know you could have told me that before now." Felicity picked up her bag and grasped Oliver's arm for balance. "Thanks for your help earlier, Laurel. It was nice to meet you."

"You too," Laurel murmured, her expression still curious as she looked between them.

"Help?" Oliver asked

"Our old friend Trey struck again, but it was taken care of," Tommy said.

Oliver tensed, looking at Felicity. "Are you alright?"

"Fine – Laurel knocked him on his ass – twice. I want to learn to do that," she replied with a sudden yawn.

Oliver put his arm around her and looked back at Tommy. "I don't want him back in here."

"Already handled."

He nodded, said goodnight and gently guided Felicity out the door to his car.

Felicity yawned again as he helped her into the passenger seat. "Wait – I have to work tomorrow. I need my car."

"I'll have Diggle pick you up in the morning," Oliver answered. "But you might want to consider taking the morning off because your head will probably be killing you."

"I wish," she said sleepily. "Too much to do. And I'm having lunch with Lindsay and Tyler."

"Who's Tyler?"

"My Tyler from university," she mumbled, yawning again. She was asleep moments later.

Oliver drove to Felicity's in silence, wondering what that meant. It sounded like Tyler was someone she knew well from her time at university – a friend, or maybe an ex-boyfriend. She'd called him her Tyler.

Ten minutes later he pulled into Felicity's parking space and carried her inside. She made a small sound of protest at first but allowed it – probably because walking under her own steam would have been difficult and she knew it. She was asleep again by the time he unlocked her door and carried her to her bedroom.

He gently placed her on the bed, pulling her shoes off before going into the kitchen. He got a bottle of water out of her refrigerator and located a bottle of aspirin in her bathroom. Then he sat on the edge of the bed and shook her awake.

Felicity opened her eyes with a grumpy expression. "What?"

"You need to drink some water before you sleep," Oliver told her. "Here, sit up."

She grumbled a little but followed his instructions, drinking the entire bottle of water while he sat beside her. He handed her a couple of tablets and she took them.

Oliver went back to the kitchen for more water, returning to find her in the bathroom. When she emerged, she'd washed her face, removed her contact lenses, and changed into sleep shorts and a T-shirt.

She crawled back into the bed and accepted the water, sipping it slowly. "You can go now – I feel better."

Oliver sighed. "Should we talk about last night?"

"No."

She looked mortified by the very idea, which told him they should definitely talk about it. "I'm not going to apologize for kissing you because I'm not sorry I did it. But if I've made you feel uncomfortable around me now then I am sorry about that."

Felicity opened her mouth, closed it, and then said, "You can't just… say things like that, or do things like that. I know I'm the only woman around lately that you're not related to, but I'm not going to be used like that. And I'm not going to be a stand-in because you can't have Laurel."

"Is that what you think?" Oliver asked, surprised.

She was squeezing the water bottle now, her eyes downcast. "I don't know what to think since you're not exactly the easiest person to read."

He reached out and put his hand over hers. "You're not a stand-in. I wouldn't do that."

"Not intentionally, maybe, but…"

"No." Oliver put his hand under her chin and tilted her face up, forcing her to look at him. "Laurel is with Tommy now and I've accepted that. They're happy, and she's better off with him. I've accepted that too."

"None of which means you don't still love her," Felicity pointed out.

He remained silent because she had a point. Truthfully, he wasn't sure what his feelings for Laurel were now.

"Either way," she continued, "you can't just kiss me out of some weird, misplaced curiosity."

Oliver didn't think it was weird or misplaced at all, but since Felicity was clearly upset about it, he said, "I'm sorry that I made things awkward between us then. That wasn't what I wanted."

"Then what did you want?"

"I don't know," he admitted.

She shook her head. "That's why it can't happen again, Oliver." She settled back against her pillows and closed her eyes. She looked exhausted, and he suddenly felt guilty.

He stood up and left, setting her alarm and locking the door behind him

* * *

Felicity sat in the booth at the Big Belly Burger and waited for Lindsay and Tyler to arrive. Her morning had been trying to say the least; she had a hangover, her first in years, though not as bad as it would have been if Oliver hadn't made her drink water and take some aspirin before going to bed. She had a feeling that she'd feel better after a big, juicy burger though. One thing she remembered from university was that fast food was the best cure for a hangover.

She was looking at the menu when she heard a throat clear. She glanced up to find Oliver standing beside her booth. "Oh. Hi."

"Hi," he said. "Can I join you?"

She nodded and he slid into the seat across from her. "I'm just waiting for Lindsay and Tyler. But you can join us if you want to. Is Diggle here?"

"In the back talking to Carly," Oliver replied. "How are you feeling today?"

"All things considered, not bad. I'm sorry about last night. It's a little embarrassing." More than a little, actually, but she was trying to let it go along with the awkwardness between them.

"You don't have to be embarrassed. Everyone's entitled to a bad night – you've seen enough of mine." He picked up his menu. "So, no to the Elvis impersonator?"

Felicity giggled. "You had to be there – he was singing 'Hound Dog' in the middle of Tony's," she said, referring to a popular pizzeria in town.

"Who was singing?" Diggle sat next to Oliver.

"My date – cop by day, Elvis impersonator on the weekends," she explained.

"So that's why you got all liquored up last night. Dave thought you were hilarious," Diggle replied with a grin.

Felicity flushed as she tried to remember everything she'd said the night before. She was pretty sure she'd made a joke about her sex life and her gynecologist at some point – God, how mortifying. She'd have to avoid the bar completely for a while and hope Tommy's memory was short when it came to her rambling. She glanced at Oliver, wondering if he'd heard that part.

Oliver smiled at her. "You've had more bad dates lately than you've told us about. Like the guy bringing his kids, one of whom threw up on you?"

She held up a cautioning hand. "No talk of vomit while I'm hung over – seriously not cool."

Oliver started to say something but was interrupted by the arrival of Lindsay and Tyler. Felicity stood up to greet them, hugging her friend before turning to Tyler. "I think you got taller."

Tyler Manning was a good foot taller than her at six feet five inches, but his height wasn't as intimidating as it could have been simply because he looked so friendly. With dark brown hair and black eyes, his heritage from his Italian mother was evident. And then there was the dimple in his cheek, almost always on display since he smiled so often. Tall, dark and handsome at its best paired with a friendly demeanor and good manners – it was really no wonder that her crush had persisted as long as it had.

"Felicity Smoak!" Tyler grinned, and when she held out a hand, he shook his head. "Come here."

He hugged her, and she was relieved to feel absolutely nothing more than friendly feelings. It was hard to imagine now that she'd been so head over heels for him just a few years ago. She pulled back and saw that both Oliver and Diggle were standing now, waiting for an introduction.

"Oh – sorry. Lindsay, you remember Oliver, and this is his bodyguard, John Diggle. Guys, this is Tyler Manning."

The men shook hands, and Tyler said, "Oliver Queen, right? I heard about your return on the news. Craziest story of the year – glad you made it home though. What a miracle."

Oliver smiled, but Felicity recognized it as the empty sort he pasted on for the media whenever the subject of his return from the dead came up. "And one of the first things I did was to catch up on the basketball world. Your stats are impressive."

Carly appeared from the back and settled them at a bigger booth, thrilled to have two celebrities in her diner. It didn't go unnoticed either, and a few of Tyler's fans approached their booth shyly for autographs and photos.

Somehow Felicity ended up between Oliver and Tyler in the round booth. It was overwhelming and made her feel a bit claustrophobic as the two men talked.

"So how did you meet Felicity?" Oliver was asking as one of the waitresses delivered their food to the table.

"Felicity was assigned as my tutor – without her I might not have graduated."

"He's exaggerating," Felicity said.

Tyler nudged her shoulder. "Really? Do you not remember my grades that semester? Your help kept me from being benched, and as far as I'm concerned, that saved my pro career. If I'd been benched, the scouts would have bypassed me."

She rolled her eyes. "Not forever."

"Always with the false modesty – except where her computers were concerned," Tyler joked. "So you ready to hit the Starling City nightlife tonight, Smoak?"

Felicity grimaced. What she really wanted was to sleep tonight, but she knew Lindsay would never let her get away with that. "Where are we going?"

"Just to a friend's party – well, friend of a friend, actually."

"Take the afternoon off, Felicity," Oliver suggested. "You've put in enough overtime lately to justify it."

Maybe she had, but her supervisor wouldn't like it. But then he took time off just the previous week, citing overtime. "Okay, I will."

"Hey, why don't you join us," Tyler offered, speaking to Oliver and Diggle.

"Where's the party?" Oliver asked.

"Up in the hills. It's at a winery, I think."

"Starlight Estate," Oliver said. "I know it."

"Cool – so you in?"

"Sure, but only if you agree to visit my club tomorrow night. You can bring the team, and I'll reserve the VIP area for you."

"I heard you opened up a nightclub in the Glades," Tyler said. "How's that going?"

"Number one nightclub in Starling City," Lindsay told him. "And I've been dying to get in there."

"Sounds like a plan, then." Tyler looked over at Felicity. "You know, I don't remember you being this quiet a few years ago."

Felicity looked up from her burger to find all of them now looking at her. Actually, Lindsay was looking at both her _and_ Oliver. Not for the first time, she cursed her best friend's intuition that seemed to pick up on the slightest of shifts in mood and manner. She didn't think they were acting any differently than usual, but based on the way Lindsay was watching them, she knew something was up.

"I'm hungry," she said. "And tired. I worked late last night."

"It's funny because you look like you're hung over," Lindsay surmised shrewdly. "Where did you go after your date crashed and burned?"

"We had a problem with the security system last night," Oliver explained smoothly. "She had to come down and work on it for a few hours."

Lindsay raised a brow but didn't say anything; however, Felicity knew she'd be fielding some questions later because she didn't look like she believed either of them. They finished lunch and left the diner. Oliver and Diggle headed back to Verdant, Lindsay went to work, and Felicity dropped Tyler at his hotel before calling the office to explain her absence.

When she got home, she went to her closet and started thinking about what to wear. Thirty minutes later she was unhappy with every one of her options. If she was going to have to spend the next two nights out in Oliver's company, bravely pushing through this newfound awkwardness between them, she was damn well going to look good doing it.

Grabbing her bag and an energy drink from the fridge, she decided to see what new arrivals her two favorite stores had gotten in. She could probably find something within a couple of hours, and she'd still have time for a nap before putting her game face on. It was going to be a long weekend.

**A/N: I'm later posting this than I intended, so sorry about that! I've had a lot going on lately. No beta and I admit that I wrote this chapter in one go with minimal editing. I usually take a bit more time with it, but I didn't want hold off on posting any longer. So if you see any heinous errors, please let me know!**

**I also want to take a moment to thank you guys for being such fantastic reviewers. All of the comments, faves and follows brighten my day because I like knowing I've written something that so many of you find entertaining. I've responded to most of the reviews from the last two chapters, and I'll respond to the remaining ones this week. Thanks a lot for reading, and I'll update again soon!**

**Up Next: Felicity and Tyler get closer at the party, and Oliver finds he is really not happy about it when they leave together. Will it be enough to push him into acting on his attraction at Verdant? Stay tuned to find out! :)**


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